


take my hand, take my life

by sizhu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Celestino "Deus Ex Machina" Cialdini, Everyone lives, Family, Found Family, Lee Seung Gil/Phichit Chulanont - background, M/M, Slow Burn, bigbangonice2018, did I mention everyone lives?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 60,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sizhu/pseuds/sizhu
Summary: Viktor is an antiquities dealer. A strange man who looks like he stepped straight out of a noir film enters the shop. An argument ensues over a simple set of jewelry. The man leaves after spitting curses at Viktor. Shortly there after, Viktor begins to experience uncharacteristic clumsiness and forgetfulness. After a chandelier from his shop nearly crushes him, he is sent to a creepy little Victorian home several blocks from his shop. There he meets a family of witches with more secrets than he knows what to do with. All he knows is that he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the witch with the dark hair and warm eyes, who turns out not to be a witch at all, but a Fey.A series of increasingly dangerous accidents prompts the witches and the Fey into serious action. Viktor questions everything he's ever known as he navigates the treacherous world of his newfound friends.Amidst the tragedies of the past & more death & unlikely resurrections, Viktor finds love in the Feyfolk who gave him life - and a family to live that new life with.A tale where not everyone is who they seem, lives are lost and freely given, and love wins.





	1. noscere

**Author's Note:**

> **noscere** | _to know_

Viktor escorted his second client of the day back to the door, bidding her a cheery farewell. She had been an elderly lady, not entirely all there—Viktor had felt his patience wearing thin every time he had to repeat the answer to a question he'd been asked more times than he could count.

"Thank you, dear," the elderly lady said, patting Viktor on his arm as he held the door open for her. "Such a nice young gentleman. You take care of yourself now."

Viktor promised her he would and watched her walk her way down the sidewalk, hoping she didn't fall or have a heart attack or whatever else old people were susceptible to. He shook his head, heading back into the showroom. As he turned, he saw another person headed for his shop. Viktor put on his usual business smile. They were well-dressed in an oddly anachronistic way; a suit that was of another era, yet still stylish and not out of place, hair combed neatly and waxed down, and a pair of thin silver spectacles that just _had_ to be from fifty, sixty years ago. By all appearances, this man stepped right out of a classic noir film. He knew what he wanted and how to get it. Viktor could appreciate someone with such confidence. Once they were close enough, he held out his hand

"I'm Viktor Nikiforov, and _you_ are very lucky," he said, all charm and service. "I don't have another appointment for the rest of the day. Can I help you find anything?"

The client nodded. He ignored Viktor's hand and walked into the shop. Viktor blinked, but shrugged and led the man to his office. The man paid no attention to the pieces that were on display in the showroom. He didn’t even spare them a cursory glance. He headed straight for one of the jewelry cases, as if drawn there by an invisible string. Viktor shrugged it off with a pep in his step. He wasn't going to be bothered. If the client knew what he was looking for, then that would make Viktor's job that much easier. Selling to a person who had an idea of what they were looking for was always Viktor’s preference. All he had to do was convince them it _was_ what they were looking for. People who had no clue tended to linger and hesitate; they were fascinated window shoppers.

"So, what shall I call you? Mister…?" Viktor stood beside the man, looking at the case with him.

"Bors." The client frowned. His gaze locked onto a glimmer of silver in the case.

"Very well, Mr. Bors," Viktor said. "Looking for jewelry? For a lover, perhaps? Anything specific in mind?"

"These." Mr. Bors tapped the glass above a pair of delicate ear cuffs. They were made of the thinnest silver chains and adorned with silver crescent moons dangling from each cuff. A few tassels hung off the chains, studded with polished aquamarines. Mr. Bors's expression soured, unnerving in its severity. "Where did you get them?"

"The ear cuffs?" Viktor asked. He didn't miss the way Mr. Bors's tone dropped. Viktor’s spine shivered. "I don't remember. They've been here for years. Do you like them?"

"They don't belong to you." Mr. Bors glowered up at him, mouth set in a thin, angry line. "You have no right to be selling them."

"Pardon?" Viktor blinked.

"These. Cuffs. Aren't. Yours." Mr. Bors punctuated each word with a jab of his finger on the glass case. "You have no right to make a profit from them. They were _gifts_ and they were made special for him."

"Who?" Viktor frowned. He worried for the integrity of the glass. "They're just ear cuffs. There's nothing special about them, except their age and the good condition they're in. I don't know who you're referring to, but they’re just jewelry. Pretty trinkets."

Mr. Bors's eyes flashed, icy bright and feral. Viktor took an involuntary step backwards. The man all but snarled at him. "You have no idea what you have in your possession. These were a gift, and were custom made for _him_. They are powerful beyond your wildest imagination! Capable of bringing the most beautiful creature in the world to his knees."

"But…" Viktor faltered. "They're glorified earrings, no matter how treasured they once were. They're just precious metal, not some kind of shackle. Who do you keep referring to? Do you want these returned to the person's family?"

"Such arrogant disrespect," Mr. Bors said, venom dripping from his words. "I won't stand for it. Mark my words, you'll get what's coming to you. I swear, you'll regret disrespecting him like this."

"Him, _who_?" Viktor asked once again. His voice sharpened more than he'd intended and his customer service mask wore thin. Said customer’s fury unsettled him, as well. "If you want the cuffs so badly, take them."

Evidently, Mr. Bors wouldn't stand for that, either. He spat at Viktor, hitting him in the face, before turning on his heel and storming out of the shop. His long coat flared out behind him. Viktor watched, bewildered. He'd never seen anyone get so worked up over old jewelry before. What a strange man. The whole interaction justified Viktor's initial thought that he'd stepped out of a noir film. Viktor shook his head. Ah, he needed some migraine medicine after that.

Viktor sighed and pulled a cloth from his pocket, wiping the smudged fingerprints from the glass after he wiped his face from the insult. He yawned. Maybe he could catch a quick nap in his office after _that_ ordeal. It had only been fifteen minutes at the most, but it drained him. Well. He could flip the sign to say out-to-lunch and set an alarm to catch a bit of rest. He'd be sacrificing food for sleep, but who needed food, anyway? Decision made, Viktor turned to the door, striding across the room. As he walked, a wardrobe door swung open in his path and smacked him in the face. He yelped, staggering back with a hand to his nose. He rubbed his face as he finished is trek to the door and flipped the sign. He'd have to tighten the wardrobe's hinges when he wasn't so exhausted.

The way back to Viktor's office became an obstacle course. If he wasn't stubbing his toes on antique furniture, he was tripping over his own feet. Viktor pushed open the door, rubbing at his face again. He could already feel the ache settling in his body. His nose wasn't broken, but he'd definitely have a bruise on his face. He snorted softly. How embarrassing, to be defeated by the swinging door of an old wardrobe. Yuri would laugh at him for sure. Viktor smiled—well, it'd be worth it, at least. He carefully stretched himself out before settling into his desk chair. A little nap never hurt anyone. He pillowed his arms under his head, resting on the desk and closing his eyes. It'd only be for an hour. The shop could wait for that long.

No sooner than that thought left his brain, he was asleep, snoozing lightly over his desk. He slept with a smile on his face. The morning's events filtered away. When Viktor awoke, all his worries would be gone. He'd be refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of the day—hell, maybe even the rest of the week. And that was something to look forward to.

* * *

When Viktor stirred awake, his office was ensconced in darkness. He'd left the blinds open during the day to let in the natural light, but now he could hardly see. Just a hint of moonlight and amber glows of the street lamps. Viktor groaned as he sat up, muscles tight and sore from the uncomfortable position. He rubbed at his eye with the heel of his palm to wake himself up. The events of that morning filtered through his sleep-addled haze to the forefront of his mind. The old lady… The strange man—ah, the ear cuffs. That man—Mr. Bors—he'd reacted so strongly over those ear cuffs. Sure, they were lovely, but… They weren't _that_ valuable. There was nothing special about them. Beautiful silver jewelry, old and well loved, but not worthy of a reaction like that. Then he'd stormed out without buying them, even though he’d been adamant about Viktor having no right to them. What an odd man… Stranger now, that he thought back on it in his moonlit office with sleep still clutching his mind. Viktor sighed. He shook his head. He stood up and closed the blinds, washing the room in complete darkness.

Oh.

Shit.

Where was the light switch again?

Viktor patted at his desk, skirting around it. So far, so good. He shuffled forward, squinting as if that would help him see any better. It didn’t. An electric bolt of pain shot up his leg and spine. Spots of white danced behind his eyes. The string of expletives that flew from his mouth startled even him. The side table next to the visitor's chair claimed yet another victim. _Motherfuck—_

"Another bruise for the collection…" Viktor grumbled as the pain dulled to a background ache. He leaned down and rubbed the tender area at the edge of where he'd slammed his shin into the table. He made it to the door and flipped on the light. Once he could see, he gave the table a hard, scathing look and a good mental scolding. He gathered his things up from his office, hit the lights, and paused. With no small amount of trepidation, Viktor made his way across his showroom floor. If he went slow and steady, he wouldn't trip over anything on the floor or slam his knee into another low-standing piece of furniture. He didn't want to die of a stubbed toe in his own antique shop. He'd get home and he'd wash up, patch up scrapes and see if he had cream for bruises. He'd clean up and sleep off his exhaustion (which he could have done in his office if he'd taken his sofa and not the desk chair…).

What a day… And it was only Monday. A chill swept up his body as he left his shop and locked up, starting his trek home. Viktor sighed, rubbing at his temples. What a day. _What a day._ He couldn't wait to get home. He shivered, rubbing at his arms as he walked. The night was getting colder, and he hadn't been prepared to stay at his shop all day.

"I'm such an idiot," Viktor said, laughing at himself. A breeze kicked up and he shuddered, stuffing his hands under his armpits as he huddled tighter. He sneezed.

* * *

The large shadow of a dog sat in front of an equally shadowy figure. The figure stood eye level with it. It held its head high, defiant. To any passing observer, it would look like this human shape was having a conversation with the dog. But the dog never moved. No tilt of the head, no thump of the tail, no twitch of the nose. It sat still, stiller than if it had met the Gorgon's gaze. The figure leaned forward, reached out. Fingers snapped at the dog's ears.

A howl broke the silence of the night. The dog recoiled, large bear-like paws scrabbling against the ground. The howl pitched into a keening whine, the sound of an animal tormented. The figure snapped its fingers again, and the dog's whining cut off with the sharp yip, as if it had been kicked suddenly. It dropped to the ground in a pitiful heap.

A sliver of silver glinted in the moonlight, a hint of blue twinkled like a star. The dog was silent. It did not shake, did not tremble. No sound came from it, nary a wheezing breath. The figure stood over the dog, gesturing with a hand. The sharp snap of fingers served as a command. The dog struggled to its feet, its free will gone. Its tail tucked between its legs. But it stood, legs trembling with the effort. Another snapping command, and the dog bowed its head, hobbling off into the night where even the stars did not reach.

* * *

Viktor unlocked the shop the next morning, waltzed into his office and dropped his things haphazardly in his chair. Before he got completely settled, he made a quick round through the showroom, choosing his steps carefully. He had enough bruises from yesterday. He didn't need more. The chill of the late evening gifted him with a throbbing headache and a stuffy nose. However, he still had work to do. A headache and a few sniffles here and there weren’t going to stop him. His first order of business was to check the wardrobe that smacked him in the face. Viktor approached it with caution, eying it warily. He patted it on its side like an old, awkward friend. Then he checked the hinges. They weren't loose at all, like he'd first thought. He shrugged it off as just another case of bad luck (though he was having a _lot_ of that lately). In fact his bad luck was so insistent that he was starting to worry—had he broken a mirror? Had a black cat crossed his path? He shook his head. No, of course not. And even if all that were true, they were just superstitions.

There were no appointments scheduled that day, so Viktor ended up piddling around the shop. He wandered, wiping glass here, dusting wood there. He tried to keep busy with menial chores and regular housekeeping, but the longer he worked, the stuffier his head got. After an hour or so, his head was made entirely of cotton. Eventually, he had to sit. He flipped his closed sign again and headed to his office, where he settled on the little sofa that afforded more comfort than his chair. Viktor pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and tried to blow his nose—too stuffy. He only succeeded in giving himself a worse headache. He groaned. Viktor sighed, pressing the heel of his palm under his eye. Walking home without a jacket had been a piss poor idea, and he knew it. But he had done it anyway. Well, nothing to do for it now—except take some meds when he got home. He still had a workday to finish, and then maybe he could rest for the rest of the week. He nodded to himself, committing to his plan. Mind made, Viktor got up and left his office. He powered through the rest of his day, determined to make it through the daily chores.

Viktor sat at his favorite street-side table at the cafe across from his antique shop. It was much warmer that day than it had been. His legs primly crossed while he observed the street. He'd been sick the last few days, bumbling around in a fog and repeatedly banging into his furniture in the process. He had stubbed toes and bruised shins, and a couple more bruises on his shoulders from stumbling into a door frame. He was sore, and now he was suffering from an unsolicited head cold. It was one thing, to trip over the antiques in his shop. It was another entirely to abuse himself in his own home. Viktor grumbled. He wished he felt better—it was such a beautiful day, with the sun beaming over the quaint, cozy little segment of town. As he waited for his tea to cool, he nibbled on one of his pastries. The street had grown into an extension of his home. This little cafe, his own shop. The photographer and the pet groomer. Both rented the units on either side of Viktor's own. The local vet was a little ways up, the local doctor a little ways down. At the end of the street, way past the vet, sat that strange little cottage that no one talked about. Point is, it was a good spot. Quiet. Peaceful. Absently, he lifted his tea to take a sip, forgetting that he was waiting for it to cool. The lid of the to-go cup dislodged and hot tea promptly spilled down his front.

" _Fuck_!" Viktor jumped to his feet, hissing in pain. That'd teach him to zone out with a hot beverage nearby. He grabbed a fistful of table napkins and desperately patted himself dry while cursing his absent mindedness. A low growl interrupted his public self-humiliation. When he looked up to find the source, he locked eyes with an impossibly large dog. It looked more bear than dog. Its fur had seen better days. The dog, having gotten Viktor's attention, began to snarl, its hackles raised and sharp teeth bared. Viktor took a step back, hands raised in placation. His foot tipped over a saucer of cream that he hadn't noticed before. It was frigid against his ankle, in stark contrast to the scorch against his chest. Distantly, he heard the cafe owner throwing Italian curses from the second floor above him. Something about the cream? Viktor wasn't sure. He was too preoccupied with the demon dog-bear-dog-thing.

The dog lunged. Viktor flinched, throwing his arms up. He was prepared for the worst. But nothing happened. He didn't topple over, there were no bites or claws on him. Nothing hurt except for the sting on his chest. He glanced around, wondering where the dog had gone. No one, not the people strolling down the street nor the cafe patrons, had reacted to the dog attacking him. They stared at him in vague concern, but they didn't freak out over the feral stray. Did… They just not see it? Viktor looked back to where the dog had been growling at him before it lunged. It was gone. There was no trace of it. No fur, no prints, not even a puff of smoke. Just—gone.

"What is _wrong_ with this week?" Viktor asked himself. He sighed and finished cleaning up his mess. He threw the rest of his tea in the trash and, after a moment of hesitation, righted the saucer he'd upturned. He left his pastries in the place of the cream. It wasn't the same, but it was an apology? Though he wasn't sure why he did it. Perhaps it was guilt, after the Italian started berating him. Evidently, the saucer had been important; perhaps there was a local cat that the Italian looked after. Viktor sighed, heading toward his shop. He needed a change of clothes.

And a day off where he wasn’t nursing a horrendous cold. He hadn't had one of those in awhile. Viktor stepped inside and headed straight for his office, stripping off his suit jacket. It was going to be a long day, if it continued the way it had been. Just another Monday, he supposed. Except—it wasn't Monday, anymore. At this point, he wasn’t even sure what day it _was_.

After Viktor changed clothes, he entered the back of the shop to start cataloging his new acquisitions. He'd gotten some excellent pieces lately. He needed to inventory and price them appropriately before they could grace the showroom floor. But he didn't mind. In fact, he had a good feeling about some of his new pieces. The wardrobe he'd gotten last week was a beautifully solid piece made from a dark oak and engraved in a mesmerizing pattern of knots that formed a tree on each door. He _almost_ hoped it wouldn't sell, as he'd love to have it in his own flat, even if he did give him more bruises than he wanted to admit. But it was a stunning piece of furniture and if—when—it sold, it would cover a month's rent plus groceries, with a comfortable amount left over to put in his savings. Viktor gave the wardrobe a fond pat.

"You'll make someone's home very happy," he said, running his fingers over the grooves of the maze of curves adorning the doors. He didn't even care that this was the same wardrobe that regularly abused him. "You're exquisite."

Viktor shook his head with a smile, stepping away from the wardrobe. He was starting to talk to his antiques. He needed a life. A love life—but that was putting the cart before the horse, as they say. Maybe a pet first, before he even started to think about committing to another person. Maybe a dog. Dogs were good—when they weren't large as bears and trying to eat him. Or thinking about eating him. That had been so… No one else seemed to care to the giant, feral creature on a semi-busy street in the middle of downtown. Either that, or they just didn't _see_ it—which was ludicrous. It had been the size of a bear and just as vicious.

With a shrug, Viktor moved on. It wasn't good to dwell on these things. He turned to an old piano that he'd gotten for nothing and had restored for resale. It had just come back from being restored. All Viktor had to do before putting it in the showroom was price it. As Viktor finished preparing the piano for moving, he heard a chiming from the storefront. No customer called out for him; no footsteps tracked across the expensive flooring.

"I'll be out in a minute!" Viktor called anyway, just in case. He threw a protective sheet over the piano and dusted himself off. Returning to the showroom, he was ready to greet a customer. But the greeting died on his lips in a wordless gush of air. The showroom was devoid of any life except himself. But he could have sworn he'd heard the door chime—ah! There was the sound again! Viktor looked around. Nothing. When the sound chimed again, he looked up. The chandelier he'd acquired months ago rattled in its hangings. Shit.

Viktor sighed and went in search of the store ladder so he could secure the chandelier's anchors. No sooner than he stepped out from its shadow did it wrench free of the ceiling's grip and plummeted to the floor. The glistening crash of shattered glass echoed through the room. Viktor reeled back on instinct, shielding his face from flyaway shards. Once the glass and debris settled, he lowered his hands. He blinked at the mess of glass and twisted metal on the floor. It glittered under the track lighting, and Viktor couldn't help but stare. The destruction was beautiful, in a terrifying _"I could have died"_ sort of way.

"Well, then." Viktor stared at what was once a chandelier. "That was. Well."

He ought to clean up. Now, where did he put that broom…?

* * *

Viktor had lost track of time, evident by his jump start when his nephew kicked his door open, making the glass pane rattle in its wooden frame. Yuri, for his part, gave no fucks. He rarely did.

"Oi! Asshole!" Yuri screeched. "Are you losing your brain as well as your hair—"

"Hey!"

"—because you forgot to come get me again, fucker," Yuri continued. He ignored Viktor’s protest like he hadn't been interrupted. He glared long and hard at Viktor, opening his mouth to continue his tirade when it hit him. He snapped his mouth shut and folded his arms over his chest. His spine shuddered with nerves. Yuri kept scowling despite the sudden wave of nauseating magic. Could Viktor not feel that? The aura of bad luck that clung to Viktor had been one thing. He could have easily told someone he wasn't interested, and they didn't like hearing it. Not that Yuri could understand why anyone would be interested in a weirdo like Viktor. But this? This was something else entirely. This was fury. This was _dangerous_. "What the fuck did you _do_?"

"What do you mean?" Viktor blinked at him, a picture of innocence. Yuri knew better, though. Viktor wasn't innocent, but he _was_ stupid, if the stench of the place was anything to go by. Whoever left this _miasma_ behind was beyond furious. Yuri, for all his eternal teen angst, couldn't match this level of rage. And Viktor? Apparently either too human or too stupid to feel the Fey touch left behind—and on _him_ no less. And too unaware to realize that he _might_ have fucked up. God.

"Who the fuck did you piss off this time, asshole?" Yuri demanded.

"No one? I mean, there was one customer I had the other day... But he was yelling nonsense?" Viktor studied Yuri for a moment, taking in the kid's appearance and noting that he looked ill. "Yura, are you alright? You're looking rather green… Are you coming down with something from school?"

"I'm fine, asshole," Yuri hissed through clenched teeth. Viktor didn’t need to know that he didn’t have a school to go to. Not yet. "I'm not so weak that I'll get sick just from those losers."

"Well, if you're sure…"

"I'm _fine_." God, Yuri hated being so sensitive to the Fey sometimes. He was just Fey enough to sense Fey touch, but not enough to have an immunity to its residue like this. Being half Feyborn was a curse, but it was all he knew. "This place fucking reeks. What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything?" Viktor looked perplexed while repeating his defense. Yuri scowled again. Of course Viktor wouldn't notice anything, even with the weight of the fury pressing down on them. Yuri took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn't going to start yelling; there was too much glass around to risk it.

"Okay." Yuri breathed again. "Since you're too fucking stupid to pinpoint when you fucked up—"

"I didn't _do_ anything. Just my job."

"A goddamn chandelier fell on your head! Phantom of the Opera style!" Yuri snapped. "You pissed _someone_ off. Now quit fucking interrupting me. Since you obviously can't tell me what you did, I want to know who you saw, where you went, and anything you might have done in between."

"Ah, Yura!" Viktor gave him a fond, exasperated smile. "You never ask about my days."

"This is serious, Viktor!"

"Why?" Viktor asked, leaning on the wide broom he'd been using to sweep up the crystalline mess on the floor. He watched Yuri fluster for a moment, lips twitching upward.

"I can't tell you!" Yuri smothered his face with his hands. It's not like the Fey world was some well kept secret. They lived their lives side by side. Hell, the café owner across the street was Fey, and a powerful one at that. And still Viktor marveled at how the pastries were so good and the coffee so energizing, the tea so relaxing. Yuri blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. They were no secret, but they didn't necessarily broadcast themselves either—he himself had yet to tell Viktor that he's only half human. It wasn't important. And Viktor was unaware enough to just… Not see them. Or at least not recognize them as anything by human. Yuri sighed.

"I can't tell you just yet," he finally conceded. "I need to know, first. Will you fucking trust me when I say it's important?"

"Of course, Yura." Viktor smile lost its exasperation, but it was still fond. Viktor _had_ looked after Yuri for years now. "What do you want to know? Or, I guess, where should I start?"

"Obviously with the person who ‘yelled nonsense’ at you." Yuri shrugged. At least Viktor was finally starting to take him seriously. "It probably _wasn't_ nonsense and you just didn't understand it."

Viktor lacked the self awareness to censor himself for the sake of the people he worked with. He tended to be painfully honest, and didn't seem to know when to hold his tongue. That, and Viktor's patience was thinner than his hairline. It's a wonder he hadn't pissed a Fey off sooner and ended up dead.

"Well…" Viktor tapped his finger to his lips. "The first two clients were… Frustrating, but in the sense that I had to keep explaining to them what it is I actually do and how I give my appraisals. Amicable people, but you know how thin my patience gets. The third meeting wasn't one of my appointments, he just. Walked in after I walked an elderly lady out. He wouldn't shake my hand and barely gave me a name. He went straight for a jewelry case and then he sort of freaked out. I guess something in the jewelry display was a family thing? But he didn't take it back."

Yuri furrowed his brow. "Then what?"

"He called me arrogant, spit at me, and then stalked out, while yelling that I'd get what was coming to me and I'd regret it? He was weird. Looked like he came out of a noir film." Viktor shrugged. "After that, I walked into the wardrobe and took a nap on my desk until it was dark out."

Yuri rolled his eyes. Because of course Viktor attracts all the weird, crazy people. (He didn't count himself, even though being Feyborn _was_ kind of weird… For humans, anyway.). But that had all the hallmarks of a curse—not specifically Fey, but a curse is a curse.

"I think I got a case of the Mondays after that, though," Viktor said thoughtfully. "The furniture rebelled against me. My bruises have bruises! I spilled my tea all down my shirt this morning. That really hurt, actually. And then I accidentally tripped over a saucer of cream? I guess it was for a cat, but I've never seen one there. Then the owner yelled at me. I felt bad, so I left the rest of my pastries in the saucer for the cat I've never seen. I came back here to keep working and—wait. Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry, not sorry." Yuri wiped his eyes as his laughter died into snickers. "It's just. You felt bad for spilling cream so you left treats? And fuckin—Celestino yelled at you. I bet you think your case of the Mondays is from the cat. You do, don't you? Also, it's not even fucking Monday anymore, dumbass."

"I… Might have considered it?" Viktor eyed Yuri. "Since after that, I've been tripping over or walking into damn near everything in the shop. But that doesn't really explain the tea, unless I'm just unusually clumsy today."

"No."

Viktor blinked at the finality in Yuri tone. "No, what?"

"It wasn't the cat that gave you a case of the Mondays," Yuri said. "And I'm damn sure it's not a 'case of the Mondays' anyway. It's been going on for days, right?"

"How do you know?" Viktor frowned. "I've never even seen it before. The cat could be an asshole for all I know. There's a reason I'm a dog person. And how do you know it's not?"

"There's a reason you're disgusting," Yuri said before he started laughing again. The café cat? An asshole? Hah! Sure, he has his moments, but. If Viktor only knew. Oh well, he'd find out soon enough. After all, Yuri _was_ about to send Viktor to where the cat lived. "Also you didn't trip over the saucer on Monday, so obviously the cat couldn't have cursed you. Stupid."

"So are you going to tell me why this is so important to you?" Viktor asked, an edge to his voice. Yuri couldn't tell if Viktor's patience was wearing thin or if Yuri had made him start to worry he was cursed. Not that Yuri could really tell if he was well and truly curse. All he knew was that _someone_ was _furious_ with Viktor and wanted him to _know_ it.

" _I_ can't. Not yet, anyway. But I know who can." Yuri pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen. "I sent you a message with an address. Show up there tomorrow at six. Sharp. For the love of _God_ don't be late. If you are, I'll kill you. Or maybe tell them to. Haven't decided yet."

"Okay…" Viktor checked his phone. "Tomorrow, six… Where is this address—"

"Wow, Viktor." Yuri gave him a deadpan stare. "I always knew you were stupid, but this is impressive, even for you."

"…Why are you sending me to that strange house at the end of the street?" Viktor asked. He was still staring at the address. "Isn't it empty? I've never seen anyone ever near that place except you. But I always thought that was a teenager thing? Hanging out in abandoned buildings, I mean."

"Never mind. _Now_ I'm impressed by your stupidity." Yuri rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm leaving. And you missed a pile of glass."

Yuri snorted as Viktor swore. He waltzed out of the antique shop. Man. He had to warn them about the idiocy he was sending their way tomorrow. And it wasn't going to get any better.

Hamster Freak  
  
oi chulanont  
  
Hey! It's Baby Yuri! What can I do for you, kiddo?  
  
1st i'm not a "baby" anything  
  
2nd i'm not your "kiddo" so stop fuckin calling me that  
  
3rd apologize to katsuki for me  
  
and i guess sorry to you losers too

Hamster Freak  
  
Oh dear. If you’re apologizing to all of us, something’s wrong. How serious is it?  
  
i'm not sure. i know there's a curse involved but  
  
i'm looking into it but in the meantime I'm sending the senile idiot over  
  
if he's not there by six you can kill him  
  
Oh! So we finally get to meet your human?  
  
i guess. asshole really stepped in it

Hamster Freak  
  
he even tripped over the saucer  
  
Celestino's saucer  
  
That explains why Yuuri seemed so funny today  
  
Your Viktor left him sweets?  
  
he said so  
  
idiot thought "the cat" gave him a "case of the Mondays"

Hamster Freak  
  
{attached image of Yuuri laughing so hard he there are tears in his eyes and his glasses are skewed}  
  
he fell off the couch LOL

Yuri rolled his eyes. He was about to pocket his phone when it buzzed again. If Chulanont was going to be a chatterbox today… God he did not have the patience for that. Not after Viktor. But Yuri didn't need to worry. When he checked the message, it wasn't the hamster freak.

Katsuki  
  
A case of the Mondays?  
  
Really?  
  
Don't.  
  
Ask.  
  
You'll see him tomorrow. Laugh at him then.

This time, when Yuri pocketed his phone, he turned it off just in case Katsuki or Chulanont wanted to keep annoying him. God. It was only Tuesday. He had things to look into. Ugh. It was going to be a hellishly long week. Why couldn't the world stop annoying him for once? He needed to get to the bottom of this, fast. He wouldn't have any peace until he figured out what happened to Viktor and how to fix it. Because, really.

Seriously.

A goddamn chandelier?

Yuri didn't see the last messages that were left on his phone.

Katsuki  
  
Phi said you were looking into something.  
  
Be careful.  
  
I won't always be nearby.  
  
Please stay safe. I don't want to lose you again.

* * *

With Viktor finally _not_ in the shop, Yuri could look around. From Viktor's tale of his noir-film-villain ranting about a piece of jewelry, Yuri knew the first place he had to look. Really—only Viktor could end up with someone's family heirloom in his antique shop and have a confrontation about it. Yuri huffed out a breath. He pulled his hair back into a half bun before jimmying the lock and letting himself in. Viktor also needed better security measures, fucking hell. Anyone could just walk right in and take whatever they wanted. Yuri forwent the lights, not wanting to alert any of the neighbors or passerby that someone was in the shop after hours—even if his "uncle" was the owner. He could see well enough in the dark, anyway. That didn't mean he didn't have to watch his step. Yuri picked his way around "strategically placed" (Viktor's favorite term for his haphazard arrangements) furniture and trinket displays. The shadows were long and heavy, reaching for him. The store felt alive with him. The wardrobe that kept attacking Viktor stood ominously in the corner. Yuri blew his bangs from his eyes and headed to the jewelry displays. Anyone who got worked up over jewelry like that needed to fucking chill, in Yuri's humble opinion. Jewelry was just a fancy trinket to show off how much money you had.

Well, sometimes. Yuri rubbed at his wrist where a worn ring of silver braided with silk rested. It and a piece of twine with a polished piece of tiger's eye hanging around his neck were the only pieces of jewelry he wore—and the twine needed replacing every couple years or so. And the bracelet? You'd have to cut his hand off to get him to remove it. They had both been gifts. Yuri shook his head. Now wasn't the time to get caught up in his own head. He had information to get—and Katsuki to report to before he made himself sick with worry. Poor bastard. Yuri shook himself off and snapped himself out of it. He made his way over to the jewelry cases, browsing through each of the practically ancient pieces. It was astounding, how many Fey artifacts were in this antique shop, since Viktor knew nothing about the Fey world. Jewelry imbued with worn out charms littered the case—luck, love, confidence, serenity. All of them supposed to be gifts for the humans that the Fey favored. But they were ancient; the magic in them had all but vanished into a vague residue. The dumbass didn't know what he had. No wonder that noir-dude blew a gasket.

A glint of silver and blue caught gave him pause. Yuri frowned. His eyebrows knit together. He knew that silver from somewhere… From some time ago—Fuck, how long ago was it? _Think_ , damn it. The familiarity ached, niggling at the back of his mind like an unpleasant whisper. _You know me_ , it seemed to say. _You could never forget me_.

As Yuri stared at it, his fingers came to rest on the case. They twitched, itching to touch them, but unwilling to unlock the case. Something else hissed at him to leave it alone, to call for Chulanont. Yuri shook his head and pulled out his phone. He needed to take a picture of this case and its contents, and send it to Chulanont before he made a fuss and sent Katsuki into a frenzy. This was bad. Very bad. A five-hundred year nightmare bad. He remembered those ear cuffs; they were made of _evil_. And Yuri had half a mind to get rid of them himself, but he needed the proof to show Chulanont and Katsuki. Now wasn't the time for reckless fury.

Before he could turn his phone back on, a shadow overtook him. It was darker than the evening outside, denser. It caught in his throat like smoke. He coughed, and looked around, but the shadow was relentless. It was constricting—Yuri couldn't even shriek his outrage at being taken by surprise. Not that his watered down ban sidhe blood would have helped much in this case.

The last thing he saw before the shadow took everything was a muzzle. Canine, too large to be normal. Eyes too sentient to be just any dog. The vaguely canine shadow melted around him.

Then, nothing.

Not even a whisper.

* * *

Viktor found himself standing in front of that strange little house at the end of the street. He'd always thought it was empty, given how often Yuri would hang out there and his penchant for being antisocial. Or was it asocial? Viktor could never remember.

It was a few minutes before six, as tardiness had come with the barest warning of death. Or at least more inconveniences than Viktor wanted to add to his tally. It had been several days of bumps and scrapes and bruises. And a head cold. He he was still suffering from the duality of sniffles and a stopped nose. Viktor inhaled and pushed the door open. Unlocked—waiting for him. Viktor would have been unsettled if he didn't have an 'appointment' with whoever lived here. The bell over the door chimed cheerfully. Viktor coughed when the cloying smell of incense assaulted him the moment he stepped inside. At least it the scent of spice was clearing his sinuses. His eyes watered against the smoke; he rubbed at them, to no avail. The smoke would stay where it willed.

Eventually, he grew accustomed to the thick air. When he could finally see (and somewhat breathe), he took stock of his surroundings. He frowned. The inside was… A little… Well. The exterior of the house was strange but innocuous enough that it fit into the normalcy of the rest of the town without drawing too much attention to itself. It was just one of the town’s many little curiosities. Even the empty saucer on the porch was inconsequential enough not to spare a second glance. Wait—

Viktor poked his head back outside. It was exactly the same as the one he'd tripped over yesterday. So this was where the cat lived? Wow. Small world. He hoped the cat didn't hold grudges. Sighing, he returned to the foyer and looked at the furnishings in curiosity. The smoke of the incense filtered the light into a muted haze, making the house seem sleepy. It shrouded the furnishings into picturesque vintage. An umbrella bin and a coat rack sat on either side of the door; they both looked so… _antique_ in their design that, for a moment, Viktor wondered if they'd come off the set of a Celtic-based TV show. The wood fascinated him. Closer inspection revealed just what he'd hoped—they were genuine, though it was difficult to say just how old they were. He didn't recognize them, though, so they definitely hadn't come from his shop.

Something soft caught his attention; someone in the house owned a deep, _deep_ blue hooded cloak embroidered with silver designs so intricately delicate that they _had_ to have been hand sewn. It was made of the softest material Viktor had ever had the pleasure to touch. Softer than cashmere, even. The fabric melted along his skin like a gentle breeze. The embroidery was cool to the touch, as if the creator had literally woven real silver into the fabric. Viktor withdrew his hands from the cloak before he could be caught molesting it. And with the way his luck's been lately, he should probably refrain from touching things that didn't belong to him. But it was _oh so soft_. Viktor shook his head and turned his attention elsewhere.

An archway separated the foyer from the house proper. It was etched with various anachronistic runes that didn't belong to any one single culture. Some he recognized as Celtic, but he couldn't place many of the others. Some he thought might be Asian, but they were so old he couldn't name the time or place they came from without needing to do some very serious, very tempting research. Viktor shifted from foot to foot, chewing on his lip in discomfort. He noticed how the air shimmered almost imperceptibly under the archway. It radiated an aura that felt like a lock, yet intangible. There was a sign on the wall next to it. Viktor inched closer, reading the words.

_Please kindly remove any iron from your person before entering._

Iron? Did the people here have an iron sensitivity? Viktor frowned. What an uncommon condition. Could it be…? No, no. It couldn't. Regardless, the house seemed so… Empty. If they were expecting him, where were they? It couldn't be a prank, given Yura's genuine concern yesterday. Viktor furrowed his brows.

A cat darted between his legs, appearing from nowhere—somewhere _behind_ him, let's think logically now—and slipping through the runed archway. Viktor nearly leaped out of his skin, losing his balance. He stumbled backwards and landed quite gracefully on his posterior. He groaned loudly, rubbing at his backside. Luckily, the only witness was the cat that caused the fall in the first place. The cat that was currently sitting on the other side of the arch and regarding him with… What kind of expression was that? It wasn't a normal cat expression. Not that he knew much about cats, nor did he claim to. But it really did look like that cat was _laughing_ at him. Viktor frowned at it.

"Very funny," he said.

The cat just blinked at him. It licked its paw and swiped it over its head, now looking bored. Then it flicked its tail before disappearing somewhere beyond the archway. Viktor watched it leave, furrowing his brow in confusion. He thought he saw the air shimmer again as the cat passed through when it tripped him. What just happened? And why had he spoken to a _cat_? He huffed and pushed himself up from the floor and dusted himself off. He didn't notice another presence as he checked for any new bruises on his person. The new presence laughed, startling Viktor out of his focus.

"I'm sorry about him," the stranger said, once the laughter died down. "He's weird about strangers sometimes. Most of the time he stays out of sight, but he wanted to see who Baby Yuri sent us. He was quite hysterical when we found out what was going on. He said he couldn't wait to laugh at you in person. A case of the Mondays. You're quite the riot."

"Ah—" Viktor paused, staring at the stranger. "The… Cat told you?"

"He's quite talkative when he wants to be, our Yuuri." He laughed again, short and bright. He shrugged. "My name is Phichit. The cat is Yuuri. And… Seung-gil is somewhere upstairs being the anti-social beauty that he is. So! You're here for a divination. You've got some bad mojo following you around, don't you?"

"I… guess so?" Viktor said. "I don't know what Yura told you. He didn't tell me anything; said he couldn't and that I should come here. And if I was late that he'd kill me. Or tell you to kill me? I guess. If you're who I'm supposed to be seeing."

Phichit just laughed good-naturedly again. He waved for Viktor to follow him through the archway. Before he passed through, though, he tapped a finger on the plaque.

"Don't forget this," Phichit said. "It's important. Yuuri doesn't like iron. He reacts badly to it."

"I've never heard of a cat being allergic to iron…" Viktor mumbled, but he patted himself down regardless. Did he have anything iron? "I try not to keep much of it around me outside of the antique shop. Yura's… The doctors all said he wasn't allergic, but it always made him sick if he was too close to it?"

"Hm…" Phichit looked him over curiously. "We know about Yuri, Viktor. Yuuri and Yuri are kind of… Birds of a feather, if you will? Besides, even if you had iron on it, I guess it wouldn't be enough to upset Yuuri. He didn't attack you, after all. Though you _did_ spill his tribute."

"What do you mean, 'didn't attack'? He tripped me!" Viktor frowned at Phichit. He was frowning a lot today, he realized.

"No, he didn't." A new voice came from behind him. "It's not Yuuri's fault that you startled so easily."

Viktor turned around to quip back at the newcomer, but he stopped when he saw the man. Talk about a resting bitch face… The new stranger—though Phichit mentioned someone named Seung-gil, so he was probably him. Viktor resigned himself to a perpetual frown for the day. "I don't startle easy. It's just—"

"That's what you're here for." Phichit cut him off and gave Seung-gil an indecipherable look. He turned and left them, evidently expecting them to follow. Viktor watched, frozen for a moment. Seung-gil stepped off the stairs onto the landing. He followed Phichit, posture perfect. Rigidly so. He looked at Viktor over his shoulder.

"Leave your coat," he said. Then he was gone.

Viktor blinked. He shook his head and shrugged off his heavy coat. He left it on the coat rack. He took a second to feel that magnificent cloak again—he'd never felt anything so soft before in his life; he couldn't help it. He took a deep breath and shook himself off. Then he turned and stepped through the archway, toward his fate. When nothing attacked him, he relaxed and let out the breath he'd been holding. He looked around. What looked like a china cabinet stood tall against the wall leading into the open kitchen. It was filled with jars of anything and everything imaginable. Some things he really did _not_ want to know what they were. Some looked like dried leaves. He poked on the glass displaying the plethora of jars, watching… _something_ wiggle around in one or two of the jars. Weird… Others jars… He didn’t look at them, only glanced from the corner of his eye. These strange ones were the ones he had no curiosity about.

Phichit cleared his throat, making Viktor start to attention. He turned to Phichit and Seung-gil, who were now seated side by side at a low-sitting table. It wasn't a coffee table—or maybe it was at one point, but now it seemed solely taken over for another purpose. Viktor looked between the two sitting before him, then at the surroundings in the open lounge—he could see almost all of the kitchen. It was just one big room separated by an island with bar stools. Viktor hesitated before sitting across from them. He didn't know why they were on the floor; there was a perfectly good couch right behind them.

"Are you… Both fortune-tellers?" Viktor ventured.

Seung-gil snorted. Phichit shushed him with surprising affection, tapping his lips playfully with a fond smile. He chided him in another language—it didn't sound like any modern language he'd heard before. Was it ancient? Viktor tilted his head—the two of them seemed close.

"Did Baby Yuri not tell you what it is we do?" Phichit asked. When Viktor shook his head, Phichit heaved a dramatic sigh. "That seems like such a big thing for him to leave out…"

"He just yelled at me that I needed help." Viktor shrugged. "And that it was a miracle that I'm still alive?"

At this, Phichit started laughing again—unchecked and vaguely hyena-like. Viktor frowned, creasing his eyebrows. Seung-gil rolled his eyes and held up a glass of… Something. Whatever it was, it was opaque and kind of swirly. Phichit stopped laughing long enough to drink what Seung-gil handed him and he settled down.

"Viktor, please," Phichit started. "We're not _fortune-tellers._ We're technically witches, but I prefer 'sorcerer' because _awesome_. And Seung-gil specializes in necromancy, so… We're not fortune-tellers."

"What's the difference…?" Viktor asked. "And—and what do you mean, _necromancer_? You're not going to kill me and enslave my corpse, are you?"

Seung-gil heaved a long suffering sigh, rubbing his temple. Viktor almost felt bad for asking.

"I—" Viktor chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I don't know what I'm doing. I deal in antiques, not… Mysticism. Yura left me clueless here."

"Yura didn't tell you anything because he couldn't." Yet another new voice. How many people were here? "You've been seriously misinformed, Viktor. Not everyone who practices an art falls into the stereotype of that art."

Viktor turned toward where the voice came from. His eyes trailed up from the floor, up _sinfully_ long legs. A tray carrying fine china blocked his view of what he was sure was a lithe torso. And finally, Viktor's eyes landed on a face. His brown eyes looked more like the tiger's eye that Yura wore around his neck than true brown and they were hidden behind blue frames. The glasses would look tragic on anyone else, but were charming on this man—on this _beauty_. Rose pink lips were pursed, leaving the beauty's expression unreadable. Oh—God, even his nose was cute. Fuck. In short, Viktor was gone. This stranger was the most beautiful creature Viktor had ever laid eyes on. The creature's lips twitched—just a tiny upward tick, so small that Viktor almost didn't catch it. Laughter erupted behind him, and he frowned. Why—

"Oh _gods._ I can't believe you actually said that out loud." Phichit howled. "And to his _face_. Seung-gil, _ylae_ [1], I'm _dying_."

Oh. So he'd unknowingly said that out loud. What was so funny about it, though? He'd only told the truth. Hell, even Seung-gil, Sir Resting Bitch Face, was laughing! He stopped when he caught Viktor looking at him.

"I don't suppose you're at all familiar with Fey etiquette?" Seung-gil asked, ignoring his wheezing friend. Partner?

"I'm sorry?" Viktor's confusion only worsened. The Fey? They weren't real. They were just old stories told to frighten the very young and the very superstitious. "What do superstitious tales have to do with anything?"

"Oh, _man_." Phichit wheezed. "You know nothing about them—don't even _believe_ in them, but _still_ manage to follow their customs. That's hilarious. Hey, Yuuri, are you sure you're not a siren?"

"Don't be absurd." Yuuri sniffed, looking very much like a displeased cat. Wait. Yuuri? Wasn't that the name of the cat that tripped him and made him fall on his ass? Viktor touched his finger to his lip, thinking. Yuuri seemed to ignore this, because he continued to speak. "Yura sent him, remember? We know it must be serious. Focus, please?"

"…Why are you named after the cat?" Viktor spewed before he could stop himself. Belatedly, he realized that it was most likely the reverse.

"Isn't it obvious?" Yuuri snorted softly, offering Viktor his amused smile. He set the tray down between the three of them. Viktor and the… Witches? Where did Yura send him? He was beginning to feel far out of his depth. Yuuri continued, "It's because Phichit has a ridiculous sense of humor. Now, tea. Phichit, will you be using the leaves or the cards today?"

"The cards, I think," Phichit said. He tilted his head. "Since Baby Yuri sent him, he deserves our best and a complete reading. However…"—Viktor swallowed at Phichit's look.—"Viktor, pay attention because I'm not normally this serious. This might come as a surprise to you, but the Fey are very real and very powerful. One of their rules of etiquette is to acknowledge beauty. This isn't being a flirt, okay? It's manners."

"Not to do so is considered impolite," Seung-gil said.

"I thought we agreed that blanket statements were off limits in this house," Yuuri said, frowning. "Don't include me in that 'very powerful' nonsense. I'm not."

" _Yuuri._ " Phichit's voice was sharp, a clear warning. This self-deprecation must be a common occurrence.

"Anyway, the _point_ is," Seung-gil said, rolling his eyes. "That the Fey aren't just old wives tales. They have magic beyond our capabilities. Even old witches like us can't compare."

Viktor listened, wide-eyed. He watched them as they calmly sipped their tea like nothing at all was out of the ordinary. Like they hadn't just told him that all those childhood superstitions were real. Like it was the most commonplace thing to know. He felt himself go slack-jawed. They were telling him this right after he accidentally called Yuuri beautiful to his face. In the most embarrassing way possible. That meant—was Yuuri one of them?

"I honestly don't care if people don't follow that with me. I'm pretty plain compared to others. Most people can't tell that I'm not human. Or not a stray cat," Yuuri said. He turned to Viktor and nudged his chin up with a clawed index finger, closing his mouth. "You'll catch flies like that. And drink your tea. Seung-gil is going to read your leaves."

"Yuuri." Seung-gil finished his tea and placed the cup back on the tray. Phichit copied him. "You don't normally show yourself to clients. And you've never addressed them by name."

Yuuri paused. He looked between the three of them. Was it just Viktor or did Yuuri look… Uncertain? Viktor shook his head. He didn't know Yuuri well enough to judge. Hell, he didn't know Yuuri at all. He sighed and obediently drank his tea, trying not to reel back at the taste. _Bitter_. They hadn't even asked if he wanted sugar with it. He grunted, ignoring the amused gazes on him. When he finished, he set the cup on the tray, where Seung-gil immediately took it into his hands. Seung-gil's face looked grim—worse than the neutral expression he wore most of the time Viktor had been there.

"Yura is family. It would be a disservice not to see Viktor myself," Yuuri whispered. "Especially since he seemed uncharacteristically worried. I thought I was going to have to bring him in for tea, but I think he's ignoring me right now. Phichit, you might have pressed his buttons a little too hard. I haven't heard from him since he told us that Viktor would be coming to see us about a potential curse. How bad do the leaves look, Seung-gil?"

Seung-gil didn't answer Yuuri. He kept his eyes on the dregs of tea in the cup, turning it around in his hands, as if changing the angle would give him more information. His grim expression went unchanged. But Viktor had something else stuck in his mind—Yuri being worried? Sure, he knew Yuri cared, but—

Viktor snorted derisively. The Yura he knew would never be open about any emotion other than anger and teen angst. Not without copious amounts of swearing and the throwing of things. Half a second later, Viktor's eyes widened and he smacked a hand over his mouth, realizing that he'd probably been rude. If Phichit and Seung-gil were telling the truth and Yuuri was Fey, he didn't want to offend him. The Fey were said to be vengeful creatures. Yuuri didn't seem fazed, though. He just arched an eyebrow at him. Viktor swallowed.

"Are you sure your interest in seeing our Baby Yuri's favorite uncle has nothing to do with the pastries he left you?" Phichit asked, grinning from ear to ear. Yuuri cut him an irate look. So Phichit changed the subject from Yuuri to the job at hand. He clapped his hands together before he returned his empty cup to the tray with a bright smile. "Thank you, Yuuri. Perfection as always. But now we should get to work. Well. Those of us that aren't our ever so focused Seung-gil."

Phichit winked at Yuuri. This time, Yuuri snorted. He rolled his eyes and took the tray without bothering to wait for Seung-gil to return Viktor's cup. Yuuri returned to the kitchen. He walked with a sway in his step that had Viktor staring. He could have _sworn_ he saw the faint, shimmering outline of… A tail? A cat's tail? Either Viktor was losing his mind or the Fey actually were real—and they existed on earth. Phichit cleared his throat, garnering Viktor's attention.

"So, Viktor," Phichit said, grinning at him. "He who has the honor of Yuuri calling him by name and personally serving him tea _and_ being allowed to stare at _dat a_ —"

"I wasn't—"

"Are you ready?" Seung-gil cut in before Phichit could get carried away with flustering Viktor more.

Viktor had the decency to look ashamed. He swallowed and nodded. He was ready.

He thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 **ylae** /’iːl.aɪ/ - _dear_ [return to text]


	2. audere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **audere** | _to dare_

"You don't shuffle your own deck of cards?" Viktor asked, taking the deck from Phichit's hands and sitting on one of the porch chairs.

"Nope, not when I'm doing someone else's reading," Phichit said. "I'm doing your reading, so you need to shuffle the deck. Let it soak in your energy, spirit, aura—whatever term you wanna use, doesn't matter to me. But the cards need to get a feel of you. So, like, if I'm trying to get a read on you, why would I shuffle them myself? I'd just end up doing my own reading, otherwise. That makes sense, yeah?"

"You… Really believe in all of this?" Viktor furrowed his brows, confused. "But it's not…"

"Really, Viktor," Yuuri said, stepping out of the house. He dropped into the swinging bench sofa next to them, stretching out. He was so cat-like in his movements, Viktor almost found himself believing in all their magic and mysticism. Viktor couldn’t take his eyes off of Yuuri. Languid, and with purpose but also with the certainty that he was in his own domain and had complete control of his territory. It was an odd thought to have. Viktor was _certain_ he was just seeing things, like the shimmering archway. There's no way it could be real. Forget what he thought earlier; he's only reacting that way because he's here, surrounded by people who actually believe in magic and the Fey like they were more than just old tales and superstitions.

Yuuri was looking at him again, regarding him as if he were some unwelcome anomaly in his home. "After all you've seen today? And don't tell me you didn't see it. You were watching."

Shit. Yuuri knew he'd been staring at his—Phichit started cackling, throwing his head back, leaning back so far that he started to fall. Seung-gil heaved a long-suffering sigh and put his arm around Phichit, pulling him back into a proper sitting position. At least now he wouldn’t overturn the deck chair and knock himself into the floor. Phichit kept laughing, this time burying his face into Seung-gil's shoulder. Seung-gil rolled his eyes. "Yuuri."

"Hm?" Yuuri tilted his head toward Seung-gil. "I didn't do anything."

"Like Hell," Seung-gil deadpanned. "You broke my husband."

"He broke himself." Yuuri shrugged. "Anyway, how did Viktor's leaves look?"

"Grim." Seung-gil shook his head before glancing at Viktor. “It’s not good. You’ve got a mark on you, Viktor."

Yuuri hummed, focusing on Viktor. "That would explain why you tripped over my saucer yesterday. It's usually kept out of the way of foot traffic. Ah, thank you for the macarons, by the way. They were a nice change. And they made Celestino feel bad about cursing at you."

"Ciao Ciao is so protective of Yuuri and his tributes," Phichit said with a fond giggle.

"How did—"

"Do I really have to prove that we exist and that all of this is real?" Yuuri suddenly looked exhausted. "Seung-gil, was there anything you could get out of the leaves? Aside from ‘bad’ and ‘grim’."

"Nothing that we didn't already hear from Yuri. Someone is furious with him and wants some sort of retribution. Other than that, nothing. Just danger and a lurking shadow. Nothing really concrete. I can't use my other method without proper preparation. The dead are…" Seung-gil gave a non-committal hand wave.

Yuuri nodded in understanding. He adjusted on the couch, rolling over and folding his arms over the armrest, watching them with a studious eye.

"He probably didn't bring anything with ties to dead relatives, anyway. It's not really a thing that people do unless they know what it is they're coming here for," Yuuri finished for Seung-gil, huffing. Viktor suddenly felt like he should have actually brought something like that. Not that he _did_ have anything like that, but still. He wasn't sure why guilt crept into his chest. Yuuri seemed to ignore his internal struggle as he continued speaking. "Phichit, are the cards ready?"

Phichit made a noise, muffled in Seung-gil's shoulders. "Ask Viktor. Are they shuffled completely?"

Viktor startled. He'd forgotten that's what he was supposed to be doing. He started up again with renewed fervor. Suddenly a sharp sting had him wincing, but kept the cards dancing in his hands. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could leave and pretend he never came across these strange, strange people (no matter how beautiful). He sighed, wishing he could be home and prodding Yura into doing his homework. He didn't think he'd ever rather fight with his adopted nephew over work, but there he was. He kept shuffling, mind wandering.

"Viktor."

Viktor's head snapped up, focusing his attention to Yuuri—even the way he spoke his name was— "Yeah?"

"The cards." Yuuri nodded at them. "Not me. Not your wandering thoughts. Focus on the cards and what you want to get out of your time here. What you want from us."

Viktor bit his lip and nodded. He stared at the cards in his hands. Focus. _I want to know why I have such bad luck. I want to know why I’m so drawn to this stranger. Most importantly, I want to know what has Yura so worried about me._ With those thoughts firmly in mind and running on a loop, he went back to shuffling. This time, something started happening—it was faint, but the cards were starting to get warmer in his hands; warmer than they should be from just being shuffled. He chanced a glance at Yuuri and received a nod of approval.

"Okay, that's good enough." Phichit took the cards back, pouting cutely. "Hey, Yuuri, how come he listens to you and not me? You don't even do any kind of divination. You just sort of. Sit there and look pretty."

"Because I told him what he needed to focus on?" Yuuri arched an eyebrow at Phichit. "I don't have any magical sway over him. You just neglected to tell him he needed to focus on what he wanted out of the reading."

"No sway, my ass…" Phichit muttered. He huffed and laid out the spread, humming softly. And then he stopped, halfway through putting a card down. He squinted at it, flipping it over twice and examining it closely. The design on the back was different from the rest of the deck. "Welp. That’s certainly… Different.."

Viktor shifted in his seat, uncertain. That certainly sounded bad… Not that he _really_ believed in all of this. He watched as Yuuri held out his hand for the card and Phichit gave it to him. Yuuri sniffed at it for a moment and then touched a corner to his tongue. What an odd thing to do. _Then_ he stared at it like it had personally offended him and his mother. What the… Was that normal? He shuddered.

"This isn't possible, Phichit," Yuuri said, waving the card at Phichit, who took it back and studied it closely.

"What does it mean?" Viktor asked, trying his best not to seem worried.

"The card? Or the fact that I handed it over to Yuuri?" Phichit regarded Viktor with a curious look. After giving the card another once over, he threw it back at Yuuri, who let out a very cat-like snarl. Okay, so Viktor wasn’t entirely sure Yuuri was completely human anymore.

"Both?"

"Well, this card is…" Phichit hesitated. "Technically it's one of Yuuri's cards. It wasn't originally in the deck I had you shuffle. _And_ you got blood on it. Papercuts, nasty little things."

"What? But I—" Viktor stopped and looked down at his hand. Sure enough, there was a paper cut, and it was, in fact, bleeding. "Is that a bad thing?"

"It's curious enough." Seung-gil tilted his head back to focus on Yuuri. "How did one of your cards get into Phichit's deck? You've never done a reading with anyone, not even us."

"It's not possible," Yuuri said. "My deck is for personal use and I keep it in a trinket box downstairs. There's no way one of my cards could have gotten mixed in with Phichit's."

"Unless…" Seung-gil worried at his lip.

"It's. Not. Possible." Yuuri hissed. Viktor noticed the shimmery shadow that was Yuuri's tail flick. He chanced a glance and caught the faintest hint of the same kind of shadow of feline ears flattening. It was getting hard for Viktor to deny what was in front of him.

"Alright, I won't mention it again." Seung-gil held his hands up. He excused himself from the deck table and took Viktor's cup with him; neither of them needed it anymore. Seung-gil had gotten all he could from it—no sense in trying for more. You can't draw blood from a turnip, after all. Yuuri slowly relaxed as Seung-gil left with both cup and impossible suggestion.

"I wouldn't ignore even the slightest possibility," Phichit said. He continued spreading the cards, with Yuuri's off to the side. "Let's see… Viktor, turn them over, starting from the card closest to me."

"But—what did that other card mean?" Viktor glanced at it's placement away from the spread.

"Oh? The Death card?" Phichit hummed lightly, not at all concerned about its name.

Viktor nearly choked on his terrified wheeze. "I'm going to _die_?"

Phichit blinked. Then he looked at Yuuri, who had his lips curled upward. If Yuuri wasn't so… Never mind, even with Yuuri's ridiculously serene beauty, Viktor was still terrified. Why was he _smiling_? Why was there even a card for _death_?

"Calm down, Viktor," Yuuri coaxed with a soft hum. "The Death card doesn't necessarily mean an _actual_ physical death."

"Then why is it called that?" Viktor tried stay rightfully indignant about the possibility of dying, but his uncertainties were no match for Yuuri's steady, soothing voice. Maybe Phichit had something when he asked if Yuuri was a siren. "If it's not saying someone's going to die, why is it called the death card?"

"Change, essentially, but it really depends on the context, which is clear as coal here. There's no way one of my personal cards got into Phichit's deck, no matter what Seung-gil thinks." Yuuri shrugged. He glanced at the card from his deck, now touched with Viktor's blood from his careless shuffle. "No change is quite so big in life as death, after all. Now, I believe Phichit asked you to turn your cards?"

Viktor nodded and did as he was told, flipping cards slowly. He steeled his nerves under Phichit’s intense gaze. Phichit was unreadable. Because of his earlier vivacity, this sudden seriousness unnerved him. Viktor turned the last card and started to pull back, but Phichit caught him by the wrist and he startled. "Uhm."

"Sorry, sorry." Phichit released him, smiling sheepishly. "Just wanted to check something. Alright, let's see what we have here…”

“Check _what_?” Viktor was baffled.

"Seung-gil wasn't kidding about the danger and dark shadows," Phichit said. His expression turned almost as grim as his husband's had earlier. He tapped his cheek, staring at the spread. "You've seriously pissed someone off."

"That's what Yura said." It wasn't news to Viktor. Phichit ignored him, but Yuuri cut him a look for his interruption. Viktor hunched his shoulders. How could someone so breathtaking be so _intimidating_? He'd never been in a situation where he felt like a scolded child. And yet, there he was. The sudden urge to please Yuuri surged through his blood.

"Doesn't say who, though," Phichit said. "Could be anyone. A disgruntled client, a resentful relative? Any jilted lovers, Viktor?"

"Uhm." Viktor blinked a few times. "No?"

"You sound so unsure of that," Yuuri said, snickering. He stretched languidly along the swinging bench, grunting as his joints popped and muscles slid into place. He sighed in satisfaction. The slowly darkening sky cast him in an ethereal light. Viktor was enthralled. "You don't know if you've had a jilted lover or not?"

"No lovers!" Viktor squeaked out, too quickly for his pride. He frowned as a blush dusted his cheeks. His gaze flickered from Yuuri; his limbs fidgeted awkwardly. He didn't know why it was so important for Yuuri to know that he didn't have anyone like that—the words just tumbled out. "Just a belligerent client the other morning."

"Perhaps that's it." Phichit nodded. "Alright, what else do we have? Pissed someone off. Suggest approaching this individual to reconcile differences… Don't suppose you'd know how to get in touch with an angry client? Hm…"

Yuuri peered over Phichit's shoulder. "Oh. Pain and suffering."

" _What_?" Viktor hissed.

Phichit snorted loudly before covering his mouth. He shook his head, swatting at Yuuri. "Bad Yuuri. We don't terrorize our clients. Much. But…"

Yuuri leaned back into the armrest of the couch, closing his eyes with a smile. "You're the one that started terrorizing him in the first place. Yura said we could."

"You've never spoken this much to anyone," Seung-gil said, leaning against the door frame that lead back inside. "Except us. What makes him so different?"

"I don't like what you're implying." Yuuri harrumphed. He rolled over so his back was to the other three.

"Very mature, _your majesty_." Seung-gil rolled his eyes and sighed. "Phichit?"

Yuuri hissed. Viktor could see the faint shimmery outline of feline ears flattened against his head. "Don’t call me that. I have no right to it."

"Oh! Right." Phichit hummed. He glanced back over the cards. "It's not pain and suffering like Yuuri said. He was just playing with you. And he almost _never_ plays with his food... _But_ you have been getting a lot of bad luck lately, haven't you?"

"Uhm. Yes," Viktor said, nodding. "Yesterday the chandelier fell from the ceiling. No one was hurt, and luckily no one had purchased it or put a hold on it… Uh—wait. _Food?_ ”

“Joking!” Phichit laughed, waving his hands.

Yuuri sighed. He tilted his head toward Viktor, looking exasperated. As if he were telling Viktor, _do you see what I have to live with?_

“Uhm. Anyway. Phichit, you said that Yuuri is one of the Fey…? If that's true, should you really be upsetting him?"

"We've all been here for a very, _very_ long time. If Yuuri really hated our needling, he wouldn't allow us here." Seung-gil arched an eyebrow. "You're changing the subject, though. Phichit isn't done with you."

"Viktor's misfortune is only going to get worse, my friends," Phichit said, nodding sagely at his own words. "Time to invest in a hard hat. Or hard _hats_. Plural. For all of us. You don't have anymore chandeliers, do you?"

"Uh, no." Viktor furrowed his brows. "Worse? How is it going to be worse?"

"That's one thing we can't predict." Seung-gil settled back down next to Phichit. "Not even the dead could tell you that. And why are we getting hard hats, too?"

Phichit kept his stare on the cards for several more seconds. Viktor worried at his lip, freezing when Phichit's gaze snapped back up to him. "Viktor."

"Yes?"

"You're not gonna get through this alone, you know. No one could fix this by themselves." Phichit rested his elbow on the table and put his chin in his hand. "But, you don't have very many friends, do you?"

"I—" Viktor swallowed and nodded. "You're… Not wrong."

"Then that settles it." Phichit grinned.

"Phichit…" Seung-gil eyed him. "What are you thinking?"

"He's saying that we're going to be the ones to get him through." Yuuri sighed, rolling over and off the swing bench, landing crouched on his feet. "I'm not going to be a glorified babysitter."

"Well," Phichit trailed off. "I mean. You _are_ the only one that can look out for him without really being noticed."

Viktor blinked. "I don't need a keeper. And—how could he _not_ be noticed? He's—"

"Don't finish that thought." Yuuri arched an eyebrow.

Phichit snickered. "He's the cat that made you fall on your ass, remember?"

"Ah…"

"Fine," Yuuri said, heaving a put upon sigh. "But Viktor, if you even _think_ about getting a collar for your 'new cat', bad luck will be the _least_ of your worries. And I’m not going home with you. Try not to die in your own home"

"I—wouldn't dream of it." Viktor swallowed.

Seung-gil snorted. "Is that everything, Phichit? It's more than what I got, but it's still not much."

Phichit hummed thoughtfully. "I think so… Cursed with bad luck by an angry individual, the bad luck will get progressively worse until it's taken all it possibly can unless the one who cast the curse can be reconciled with… Trial too big to face alone. That's… About it. Everything is strangely quiet after that. Oh—they warn against acting rashly and without proper consideration. Is that a thing you do, Viktor? Act before thinking?"

"Ah… I suppose?" Viktor frowned. "Yura does say that I'm not very self-aware when it comes to how my words might affect others."

"So you're like Yuuri, then." Phichit laughed. "Socially stunted."

"Rude." Yuuri quipped. He seemed to have settled after whatever it was that Seung-gil was suggesting to piss him off. He seemed… Rather mercurial. Yes, that was it. Yuuri had a mercurial personality.

"Well, that's it, I think." Phichit pouted. "It's foggy at best after all that. I don't know what else to tell you, Viktor, but it's more than the leaves, at least?"

"I—yes, thank you." Viktor nodded. He looked between the three of them. "How much do I owe you for your help?"

"You don't." Yuuri finally sat up, stretching his arms. "It was a favor for Yura. We don't charge family."

"You said that before…" Viktor clicked his tongue. "How is he your family? You're not related to—"

"No," Yuuri cut him off with a soft, almost fond, smile. "We share no real blood. You’ll find that blood isn’t everything, Viktor. If you want to know who we are to Yura, you’ll have to ask him."

"I see." Viktor sighed. "I doubt he'll tell me."

"It's not a secret, it's just not my place to tell you." Yuuri shrugged. "You won't know if you never ask. Anyways, are you leaving?"

"Yes, I think so…" Viktor sighed. "I should check on Yura and see if he's still pissed I didn't pick him up from school yesterday. He must have left before I got up, because I didn't see him this morning. Are you supposed to come with me…? Do you need the address…?"

"It’s not immediately pressing," Yuuri said. "I think you’ll be okay until next time. But if you're worried, just set out a saucer. I’ll find you. I'll walk you out, though."

Viktor watched as Yuuri stood up, and followed his movement. They left the porch together, Yuuri muttering something to himself. Mercurial, indeed. Yuuri all but dragged him off the porch. Impressive, considering Yuuri hadn't laid a finger on him. Once they were a few paces away from Phichit, Yuuri stared up at him, and Viktor never felt so naked under someone else's scrutiny. He fidgeted, unable to meet Yuuri's gaze.

"Is there nothing else you wanted to tell us?" Yuuri asked, rocking on his heels.

"Not that I can think of?" Viktor tilted his head. "Thank you, Yuuri. You and your friends have been…"

"A pain in the ass?" Yuuri offered, a smile stretching across his lips.

"Very helpful," Viktor said, blinking. "You've all been kind. If a little terrifying."

Yuuri snorted softly. "The reading or me?"

"Well… Both?" Viktor scratched his cheek. "But I think—well. It's not like you can control the… Reading? It's not like you can control fate. Or—you can't, can you?"

"We're not _gods_ , Viktor," Yuuri said, rolling his eyes. Viktor thought he caught a glimpse of fondness, but he knew that was just him being hopeful. "Look, we can't control the future. Sure, we can sometimes get a glimpse of it every once in awhile, and we can take actions to try and prevent things from happening, but we're not all powerful. We all have our limitations."

"Then whatever your friends got from cards and tea aren't your fault," Viktor said, reaching out and cupping Yuuri's cheek before he could stop himself. It was the wrong move—Yuuri flinched away from him, like he'd been electrocuted. Viktor pulled back, raising his hands. "I'm sorry—I didn't—"

"It's—it's fine," Yuuri hissed, touching his cheek tentatively. "I'm fine."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I—" Yuuri took a deep breath. "You didn't hurt me, Viktor. I was just surprised. Go home and get some rest. You can come back to us tomorrow, if you want."

"Oh, Yuuri." Viktor blinked. "Uhm, sure. Can I—maybe take you to lunch tomorrow? You didn't seem all that comfortable with me there—with everyone else, I mean."

"I—I'd like that," Yuuri said. He very deliberately ignored the loud whistles coming from up on the porch. He wouldn’t give Phichit, now sitting on the steps and shuffling cards, the satisfaction of a reaction. Especially not since Phichit moved for the express purpose of getting a better look at them. "But I want you to show me, afterward."

"Show you what?"

"What started this." Yuuri stared up at Viktor like what he wanted was obvious. "Show me what set off this angry client of yours. Some things just can't be seen in cards or tea leaves. So take me to your shop and show me this seemingly inconsequential piece of jewelry. After lunch tomorrow, of course. It's getting late."

"Well, if you're sure," Viktor ceded, shrugging lightly. "Thank you, again."

"Of course," Yuuri said as he headed toward the end of the walk. "I couldn't turn away anyone Yura is fond of. I'll walk you to the end of the block."

Viktor blinked rapidly. Yuuri raised an eyebrow at him, lips twitching upward. He turned away and crossed from the walkway onto the public sidewalk. Viktor stared after him for several moments before jumping and rushing after him. With quick strides, he was eager to catch up. Yuuri paused and waited for him at the end of the block, looking over his shoulder and wearing that same coy smile on his lips. What the hell. One minute Yuuri's practically running from him—the next he's almost teasing. Viktor almost couldn't keep up. But still, he smiled back once he caught up.

"You're quite slow, for someone with such long legs," Yuuri commented airily.

"You got a head start." Viktor huffed. "Cheat."

Yuuri just laughed. Viktor puffed his cheeks out, shouldering Yuuri with a playful shove. But he couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face.

"This is where I leave you, Viktor," Yuuri said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," Viktor said, smiling. He stepped off the curb and into the crosswalk. A force slammed into his back before he could blink. It propelled him forward, punching the air from his lungs. He landed on his face on the other side of the crosswalk. A rush of wind _wooshed_ by, accompanied by the sound of a horn blaring. Viktor wheezed, gasping for air, a drowning man just reaching the shore. He twisted around to look at the intersection he'd just been thrown through, but Yuuri's weight on him was solid and unmoving.

"Are you okay?" Yuuri asked from both above and behind him.

"I—yeah." Viktor breathed, lungs finally working again. He noticed that Yuuri was half on top of him, blinking down at him with wide eyes. His glasses had fallen during the shove—giving Viktor an unobstructed view of Yuuri's eyes. The rich tigers-eye was even more enchanting without glasses in the way. Viktor's jaw fell slack. Now _really_ wasn't the time to be enthralled, and _yet_. Was this how it would always be with Yuuri? Not that Viktor could truly complain, but the constant short-circuiting in his brain made proper functioning difficult.

"You really ought to look both ways before you cross the street, Viktor," Yuuri said. He tried for teasing, but with his vaguely terrified expression, the playfulness fell flat. Viktor nodded, almost as wide-eyed as Yuuri. Yuuri scrunched his face, pouting at Viktor. He poked him in the forehead, and Viktor blinked at the touch. "We need to get up."

"Yeah." Viktor shook his head. Yuuri clamored off him and offered him a hand. Viktor took it, letting Yuuri pull him up to his feet. "Yuuri?"

"Yeah?" Yuuri tilted his head up.

"Thank you," Viktor said. "For saving my life. Even though you _did_ say that my situation wasn’t, how did you put it, _immediately pressing_?"

“That’s very rude of you.” Yuuri's expression softened and he smiled. "But you can thank me by finding my glasses. I lost them when I pushed you."

Viktor nodded and looked around, eyes on the ground while Yuuri took stock of any cuts and scrapes. His gaze roved over the concrete and onto the asphalt, searchin. Light glinted off the lenses and caught Viktor's attention. He smiled and plucked them up off the sidewalk, under the crosswalk's pedestrian button.

"Found them," Viktor said. He examined the glasses for any scratches before turning to Yuuri and perching them across the bridge of his nose. He smiled and tapped Yuuri's nose with his finger. "Better?"

Yuuri crossed his eyes, attempting to look at where Viktor had poked him. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. Viktor's hand was disappointingly out of swatting distance. He sighed and gave Viktor a smile before rolling his eyes. "If you're asking if I can see, then yes."

"That's always good." Viktor grinned at him. Yuuri just gave him an odd look. Viktor blinked, tilting his head. "Is there something on my face?"

"Mmn." Yuuri shrugged. "You landed on it."

Viktor opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but cut off. Yuuri reached out, poking the lattice of scrapes on his cheek. Viktor winced and flinched away from Yuuri's hand. But Yuuri didn't back off. He pressed his palm against Viktor's cheek. With his other hand, he held Viktor still. Viktor wanted to ask what he was doing, but nearly bit his tongue in the process. The tingling of his skin under Yuuri’s palm sent shivers down his spine, despite the warmth of Yuuri's hand. Soon the tingling stopped, along with the stinging. Viktor blinked and Yuuri withdrew his hands entirely. Yuuri looked up at him expectantly while he touched his fingers to where the scrape was. The skin was smooth—still warm from the touch, but completely unscathed. As if the damage never happened. His eyes went wide.

"Yuuri?" Viktor asked once he got his tongue working again. "What was that?"

"Just a little bit of magic," Yuuri said. He shrugged with one shoulder and walked past Viktor, turning towards the road back home. "Nothing special."

"Nothing special?" Viktor parroted. He jogged to catch back up to Yuuri—always chasing behind him. "You just healed my face. With your hand. How is that not special?"

"Phichit and Seung-gil can do it, too," Yuuri said with another shrug. He didn't bother looking over his shoulder this time, knowing that Viktor was right there with him. "They just have a different way of doing it."

"I see…" Viktor really didn't. But he would let Yuuri have this one without too many extra questions. Yuuri had not only saved his life, but healed a cut on his face. In the span of ten minutes! Yuuri really was something, even if he didn't think so himself.

"Viktor." Yuuri stopped walking—Viktor walked right into him. Yuuri tilted his head to look up at Viktor behind him. "Didn't we _just_ have a conversation about paying attention…? I should hope I don't have to walk you all the way to your front door."

"Sorry," Viktor said, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. "My bad. But I wouldn't mind that."

"Mmhm." Yuuri sighed and stepped aside. "I really shouldn't. There are things that Seung-gil and Phichit might need me for—not that I don't want to stay. I'm sure there's more to learn about your situation."

"Oh…" Viktor nodded. He rifled through his pockets for his keys, continuing down the street with Yuuri staying behind, watching him go. He paused and turned back, looking unsure but hopeful. "…Yuuri? I will see you tomorrow, right?"

"Don't be silly," Yuuri said, rolling his eyes with a fondly exasperated smile. "Of course you will. I gave you my word. I couldn't say no to free food, anyway."

"…You're incorrigible." Viktor laughed.

"Mmn," Yuuri agreed. "Stay safe, would you?"

"For you, anything." Viktor grinned as he held a hand over his heart and bowed with a flourish, waving his farewell with his other hand.

Yuuri rolled his eyes at the dramatics and ushered Viktor away with a shooing motion. He watched as Viktor left him on the street corner. His cheeks were warm and were beginning to ache from smiling and laughing. For a human, Viktor certainly was easy to please. Yuuri shook his head and turned back toward home. Adjusting his glasses, he stepped across the intersection without incident. Yuuri sighed. Viktor was too magnetic. It wasn't good for his heart—or Viktor's, if Yuuri was honest with himself. Yuuri wasn't ready for that. He was still raw, still broken from the last time. Even if it _was_ five hundred years ago. Something like that doesn’t just go away.

Perhaps it was finally time to talk about it.

As if.

* * *

"So, you walk clients home now?" Phichit asked, grinning and showing just enough teeth to be worrisome. "Since when?"

"It's not like that," Yuuri said, watching Phichit with a careful eye. It was never good when Phichit showed teeth like that. It meant he was up to something. Or the gears in his head were turning. Both situations were less than ideal—the last time Phichit got like that, he ended up soaking wet with matted fur. And Seung-gil walked away from the incident both soaked and adorning a collection of brand new cat scratches. They don't speak of it. "I just took him to the end of the block."

"You took an awfully long time, if you didn't go very far." Phichit arched his eyebrows. "Are you sure there's nothing going on? He did pull _your_ card out of _my_ deck, after all."

"Nothing is going on, Phichit," Yuuri said, frowning. "I took so long getting back because he was nearly hit by a car in the crosswalk."

"Oh." The mischief left Phichit's face in an instant. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Yuuri shrugged. "A little shaken, but fine. I may have tackled him out of the way."

Phichit narrowed his eyes and his lips twitched upward for half a second. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Fine." Yuuri blinked. "No damage. I took care of a scrape on Viktor's face, though. And then we had to find my glasses—which are also fine, thank you very much."

Phichit snorted. Yuuri rolled his eyes. His friend wasn't going to let up until he got even the tiniest morsel of gossip. Where had Seung-gil wandered off to? Of all the times for him to be left alone with a needling Phichit…

"Something else happened, didn't it?" Phichit climbed over the back of the couch to get to Yuuri. "C'mon, I'm your friend—Seung-gil's your friend. You're supposed to tell us when things happen. How else are we supposed to support you, Yuuri?"

Yuuri bit back a hiss, sidestepping Phichit and heading to the kitchen. Another mug of tea and some pastries sounded nice, if Phichit was going to keep prodding at him.

" _Yuuri_."

Yuuri sighed. All hope of escaping was lost—Seung-gil had popped up out of some shadow. _Necromancers_. Ugh. Yuuri spared Seung-gil a glance before rifling through the pantry. Otherwise, he ignored him.

"Yuuri, do we really need to have that talk about communication again?" Seung-gil leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he leveled a stare at Yuuri.

Yuuri shrugged. He didn’t look at Seung-gil. He should have expected this. He _had_ been thinking about opening up more on the way home, after all. And he definitely should have known better than to hope his friends' sixth sense regarding him wouldn’t kick in. He supposed that's what happens when you share more than just close quarters.

"Alright, alright," Yuuri said, hunching over as if that would protect him from his friends' inquiries. "He… Asked if he could see me tomorrow. But you heard that, didn’t you? Why make me say it?"

"Yuuri…" Phichit stuck himself to Yuuri's side, nodding at Seung-gil—who pushed off the counter to brew another batch of tea. "This a good thing. Maybe you'll learn something—like how he magically pulled your cards from my deck."

"It was just the one card, Phichit." Yuuri huffed. "But… I guess so. And I couldn't say no to free food, either."

Phichit snorted. "You are _so_ easy."

"Hey!"

"That's enough, you two." Seung-gil rolled his eyes, plating some snacks while waiting for the kettle to boil. "Yuuri, are you sure about this?"

"I—think so." Yuuri nodded. "I get free food. And he promised to show me the object in his shop that caused his curse. So—you know. We'll at least have that."

"Oh—that's smart." Phichit pouted before swiping a snack off the plate and crunching on it. "We should have asked about that when little Yuri messaged us."

"We didn't have a reason to," Seung-gil said. "All he said was that Viktor stepped in a pile of shit and that he needed help."

"That's—true." Phichit rubbed his chin as if stroking a beard. "Oh well! Yuuri's on information anyway! He'll charm it out of Viktor if he has to."

"What?" Yuuri frowned. "I can't charm anything out of anyone."

"Oh my _God_." Phichit wheezed. "Yuuri, _taelea_ [2], my love, my best friend, my brother—"

"Stop." Yuuri hissed. The shadow of his feline ears flattened, but Phichit just laughed.

"I love you— _we_ love you—but you're an idiot." Phichit grinned. "Darling Yuuri, you charmed him the very second he saw you. You don't even have to bat your lashes at him."

"Why would I do that?" Yuuri stepped away from Phichit and sat on the table, ignoring Seung-gil's disapproving look. "He already said he'd show me, so why would I need to work for it?"

"Sweet summer child," Phichit sighed, hand over his heart as he gave Yuuri a pitying smile. "He _likes_ you."

"No," Yuuri said. He shook his head. He wouldn’t entertain the possibility. "It's—a magnet thing? He hasn't been given a choice."

"Not _yet_ anyway." Phichit waggled his brows. A second later, he yelped and danced away from Seung-gil. "Rude, _ylae_. I thought there was a no pinching rule in this house."

"Only when it suits you." Seung-gil paused. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yuuri, be careful. He's not the same as what happened five hundred years ago."

"I know—I _know_." Yuuri chewed on his lip and picked at his fingers. "But I—"

"Talk to him." Seung-gil stared at him. "At the very least, tell him what your boundaries are."

"I—" Yuuri nodded. "I will."

Eventually.

* * *

Viktor showed up at Yuuri's early in the afternoon. His skin itched and his heart thumped heavy against his ribs. It was just lunch, and it was just Yuuri. Yuuri, who was charming in a blunt, oblivious way. Yuuri, who was the most beautiful man he'd ever met. Yuuri, who also was more than just a man—who was apparently Feyborn. Yuuri, who honestly believed he was nothing special. What would it take for Viktor to convince Yuuri that he _was_ special—that he was worth more than he thought of himself?

Who was he kidding? There was no ‘just’ Yuuri.

He had his work cut out for him.

Viktor raised an arm to knock on the door, but it opened before his knuckles connected with wood. He blinked several times, hand still raised midair. Yuuri blinked back at him, gaze flickering from Viktor's face to his raised hand. He arched an eyebrow, tilting his head with a smile—the same smile he gave when they'd walked to the end of the block together the day before. Viktor swallowed.

"You're late," Yuuri said. His lips twitched, struggling to keep his smile in check. "I thought you weren't coming at all."

"Not co—Yuuri!" Viktor cried, placing his hands over his heart. "How cruel. Of course I'd—I'm the one that asked you out, remember?"

"I know." Yuuri's smile softened. He was no longer teasing. "Where are you taking me, Viktor?"

"Anywhere you like," Viktor said, breathless.

"Anywhere?" Yuuri arched his eyebrows.

" _Anywhere_."

Yuuri smiled again. "The cafe down the street."

"The—really?" Viktor blinked. He went there almost every day. Surely—

"Mhm." Yuuri nodded. "It's free."

Viktor blinked. Yuuri looked at him curiously. "The Italian's place."

"Uh-huh." Yuuri grinned. "Celestino's place. _It's free_."

"Well—" Viktor melted in his shoes at Yuuri's delight. "I can't argue with free food."

"Me, neither."

A screech echoed from inside the house. Yuuri winced and quickly squeezed his way out the door and shut it behind him even quicker. Not a second later, the sound of a body _thump-_ ing against the door startled Viktor. He blinked at the door, then at Yuuri.

"Was that…" Viktor made an awkward gesture with his hands.

"Yuuri! Be safe! Don't order that one thing that gave you food poisoning last time!" A beat of silence. The door opened and Phichit peeked out, singing a delighted, " _Use protection!_ "

Yuuri shrieked and flew off the porch and down the walkway to the street. Viktor watched this, as if in slow motion. His gaze flickered from Phichit and his gleeful cackling to Yuuri's rapidly retreating figure. For a moment, Viktor thought he saw Yuuri's feline ears and tail manifest themselves in his terror.

"You'd better run after him," Phichit said between his snickers. "You'll lose him otherwise."

Viktor just nodded dumbly. He turned to leave, but he caught Phichit rolling his eyes. He felt his face twisting into a human representation of a question mark.

"Nothing, nothing!" Phichit chirped. "You sure know how to pick 'em."

"Do… you always play matchmaker for you friends?" Viktor hedged, shuffling his feet.

"Nope, just Yuuri! 'Cause my other friend's married." Phichit grinned, all teeth. "To me! Now go, shoo. And watch out for the claws. Have fun! Toodles!"

The door slammed shut—a surprising feat for the simple fact that it was only open a crack in the first place. Viktor blinked and shrugged. He turned on his heel again and jogged down the way, meeting Yuuri at the end of the block where he'd almost been run over the day before. When he got there, Yuuri gave him an incredulous look.

"What took so long?" Yuuri asked, doing his best not to pout. Evidently, the effort was in vain.

"Phichit really likes to talk, doesn't he?" Viktor laughed, reaching out and poking Yuuri's cheek. "Don't pout, kitten."

Yuuri swatted at Viktor's hand. His claws caught on Viktor's sleeve. Viktor snorted while Yuuri made a distressed noise in the back of his throat. Yuuri whined again, tugging his hand back, but only succeeding in bringing Viktor's arm closer. "Let go, Viktor."

"I'm not touching you," Viktor said, laughing. He took his free hand and untangled Yuuri's claws from his sleeve. "You really are just like a kitten, aren't you?"

"You're rude." Yuuri sniffed.

"So you’ve said." Viktor just smiled, setting Yuuri's hand free. Then he offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Yuuri blinked between Viktor and his offered arm. He tilted his head, looking up at Viktor through his lashes. While the hesitation didn't show on his face, Yuuri noticed that Viktor began to shuffle his feet. Yuuri shook his head and smiled. "I don't need the escort, Viktor."

"Oh—I—" Viktor started to lower his arm, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry—"

"But you do," Yuuri said, still wearing his coy smile. He took Viktor's arm in his before Viktor could withdraw completely. "Maybe you'll be less likely to get run over if I'm walking with you and not behind you?"

" _Yuuri_ ," Viktor whined. "That's so mean. You're so mean to me."

"You're not _really_ complaining," Yuuri said, looking up at Viktor with an amused expression. They walked together down the street toward Celestino's cafe. Viktor hadn't complained again; he simply relished the attention Yuuri was willing to give him, for however long he would give it.

"No—" Viktor shook his head. "This is the first time I've had fun in awhile."

"…even though you nearly got hit by a car yesterday?" Yuuri asked, incredulous. "And a chandelier dropped itself on you?"

"Okay, those might have put a damper on things, but still!" Viktor beamed at Yuuri. "I get to take you to lunch, after all."

"Oh." Yuuri's face flamed. "Viktor, I—"

"We're here!" Viktor stopped in front of the cafe, waving his arm in a flourish, as if to show off the place. "So do you want to go in and order with me? Or save us a table out here?"

"I'll save a table," Yuuri said. "Just tell Celestino you're ordering for me and he'll know what to give you."

"As you wish," Viktor said, smiling as he relinquished Yuuri's arm and stepped inside.

Inside, the familiar smells of coffee grinds and baked goods assaulted Viktor's senses. It was like he'd stepped into a little slice of home. Celestino's might as well be his home, with as often as he ate there and spent his work breaks there.

“Back again, Viktor?” Celestino asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yuuri brought me this time,” Viktor said. He raised his hands in deference, smiling sheepishly. He glanced out the shop front window, catching sight of Yuuri. Celestino followed his gaze and shook his head.

“Fine.” He let out a gruff grunt. “Since it’s Yuuri, I’ll let it go. I’ll even give you a discount on your usual.”

“Wait, what?” Viktor blinked. “Yuuri said lunch would be free.”

“It is.” Celestino looked Viktor over with a critical eye. “ _Yuuri’s_ lunch is free. You, on the other hand, aren’t my family.”

“I… Suppose that’s reasonable.” Viktor conceded defeat, smiling awkwardly. He glanced at the bakery case. “Can you throw in a few of those macarons? Yuuri mentioned he liked them, when I left them that last time.”

Celestino paused in his work. He narrowed his eyes at Viktor again. “Tread lightly, boy. Yuuri’s like a son to me, and I’m not the only one with a protective streak. Hurt him, and you’ll wish you were dead.”

Yuuri sighed while he sat a table under the awnings of the cafe. He fiddled with the heavy napkin holder and played with the promotional ad for a spice cake coffee. Talking was harder than Yuuri had anticipated—Viktor was more distracting than he'd first thought. Maybe it was the other man's innate charm, or maybe it was the knowledge that they were somehow universally bound together, but Yuuri found himself struggling to tell Viktor the truth—that he couldn't reciprocate any attention Viktor gave him. It hurt too much, but the explanation wouldn't leave his lips. The words barely lodged themselves in his throat. And when he felt he was finally able to speak them, Viktor distracted him with a little gesture here, a charming comment there. Yuuri sighed again and folded his arms over the table before resting his head on them. Why was everything so hard? He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Viktor returning and sitting across from him.

"Here," Viktor said, placing a to-go cup and a box on the table and nudging them toward Yuuri. "Celestino said they were your favorite. Hey—are you alright? You don't look so good."

Yuuri made a noncommittal noise in his throat. He opened his eyes and blinked at the food in front of his face before he sat up straight. He noticed that the tea was in the largest cup that Celestino's cafe offered, and the box was warm and smelled _delicious_. A smile stretched across his face as he opened the box. It was an apple chicken panini—perfect griddle marks on the bread. In a side compartment of the box was a steaming cinnamon bun with too much glaze. Yuuri licked his lips. He hadn't had this in awhile.

"I'm alright now. I was just thinking about things and getting my thoughts in order," Yuuri said, tearing his eyes away from the food porn in front of him and looking at Viktor. He blinked. Viktor's face was flushed, bright and warm. Blue eyes were wide. Adam's apple bobbed with Viktor's nervous swallow. Yuuri arched an eyebrow at him, unable to decide if Viktor looked terrified or… Something else entirely. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I feel like I’ve been given a shovel talk, but other than that, I’m fine," Viktor said. He hid himself behind his own lunch. "Oh my God, this is so good. I normally only get the desserts, but— I might have to start actually getting real lunches here."

“I can’t go anywhere with anyone without him and the others getting up in arms… Anyway, it sounds like someone has an insatiable sweet tooth," Yuuri teased before biting into his sandwich and humming in delight. He soon forgot that Viktor was sitting across from him and could watch him eat—his lunch demanded his full attention.

Viktor stared. He couldn't _not_. Yuuri was sublime—watching him enjoy food as if it were life's greatest pleasure? Now that was just borderline obscene. Obscenely _cute_. At least until Yuuri got to the cinnamon bun. Viktor nearly choked on his sandwich at the sight of Yuuri licking the excess glaze from the pastry. This was _so_ bad. Viktor's heart couldn't take such abuse.

"Yuuri, you are _killing_ me," Viktor wheezed. "Cardiac arrest. Too cute. Illegally attractive. Cease and desist."

Yuuri paused, mid-bite into the bun. He blinked at Viktor, tilting his head in confusion. Setting his dessert down and wiping his fingers with a napkin, Yuuri swallowed his last bite. He took a sip of his tea. Then, he blinked at Viktor again, slow and baffled. "What are you going on about, Viktor?"

"Uhm—nothing." Viktor shook his head, waving his hands. "Nothing at all, sorry to distract you."

"Uh-huh…" Yuuri studied Viktor for a long minute. "You're really red."

* * *

"You're hiding something from me." Yuuri leveled a stare at Viktor, looking up at him through his lashes. His glasses were perched just low enough on his nose so that Viktor could see Yuuri's eyes unobstructed—an angry tiger's eye searching Viktor's expression.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" Viktor took half a step back from Yuuri, hands held up in placation. "Really, I've told you everything I know already. A few times."

"Then why—" Yuuri crowded back into Viktor's space. The scowl on his face looked more like pouting. Any attempt at intimidation fell flat—he just looked cute. Angry, but cute. "Something else had to have happened, Viktor. A simple curse from a frustrated client isn't going to kill you, and you've had at least five brushes with death this week _alone_. Something. Happened. What aren't you telling me?"

"I—" Viktor sighed, reaching out and cupping Yuuri's cheek, brushing his thumb over a soft cheekbone. Yuuri didn't flinch away from him this time. It delighted Viktor, but even he wasn't so unaware that he couldn't tell this was a serious matter. "I'm not hiding anything from you, Yuuri. I promise—I would _never_ keep secrets from you. Not on purpose."

Tension lifted from Yuuri's shoulders. Not enough that he completely relaxed—his forehead was still scrunched in anxious thought. Viktor moved his hand to try and smooth out the creases, but he didn't get far. Yuuri huffed and batted his hands away, catlike in his tolerance for doting. If Viktor wasn't careful, he'd end up with scratch marks down his arms. Yuuri still had claws, even when he wasn't a cat. Viktor dropped his hands away, offering Yuuri a smile as a peace offering. He watched the faint, shimmering shadows of Yuuri's feline ears for any sign of his emotions. Their shadows moved, turned back and just a little flat. Viktor chewed on the inside of his cheek. He should be grateful that Yuuri wasn't in full panic mode, but it only made him wonder what he could have missed when he told Yuuri the sequence of events leading up to the chandelier, and now the subsequent near brushes with death. He also knew he was… A _lot_ calmer than he should have been, for someone who's nearly died five times in the last week or so. Clearly, Yuuri was more concerned than he was.

"Think, Viktor." Yuuri pressed, pushing a hand lightly against Viktor's heart. "You missed _something_ when you told me what happened. I can't pluck it out of your brain—I'm not that kind of Fey. You have to think for me. _Please, taelea_."

Viktor swallowed the lump in his throat—Yuuri was _begging_ him. The very sight tugged at his heart. He nodded as he reached up, fingers brushing against the faint shimmer of one of Yuuri's ears—it swiveled back and twitched. Yuuri frowned at him and shook his hand away. "Would you stop that? It feels weird."

"I just don't understand how you can have human ears and cat ears at the same time." Viktor frowned, distractedly watching the outlines of the ears twitch. Yuuri's ears flattened back just enough to bring Viktor's attention back to the subject at hand. He needed to focus. Yuuri was begging him to think of anything he might have missed. For someone who was so skittish about affection and stubbornly refused any of Viktor's attraction, Yuuri was actually letting him touch for once. It just proved how worried Yuuri really was. Viktor sighed and closed his eyes, thinking back to when he argued with a not-client over jewelry. He mentally ran through the events of that day and the day after. Argument, lost fight with wardrobe, took an entirely-too-long nap. Lost fight with a side table in his office. Home. Caught cold. Few days later, work. Lunch. Tripped over saucer. Black dog scared the shit out of him. Chandelier nearly murder— Oh. _Oh_.

"Viktor?" Yuuri pressed again. "You remembered something."

"I—think so," Viktor said, nodding. The black dog. That was what he missed. He opened his eyes and adjusted his gaze back to Yuuri's open face. "There was something at Celestino’s place…”

"Okay." Yuuri hummed. "When you spilled my saucer. Something made that happen. What was it?"

"I thought I might have imagined it, because no one else noticed," Viktor said. "When I reacted, everyone around just kind of. Looked at me funny."

" _Viktor_." Yuuri hissed. Impatience vibrated through his skin. Viktor could almost feel it radiating off him.

"Right, right," Viktor continued, hastily. "There was a dog. At first I just thought it was a stray? But it didn't look like it was starving. And it was—really big. It could have easily been mistaken for a bear, if it hadn't been so clearly a dog."

"…A dog." Yuuri furrowed his brows, wrinkling his cute nose as he thought. "What else about this dog?"

"It was solid black, and really big—like I said. Bear-like," Viktor said. "It's eyes looked human, though. No one else saw it, or if they did, they didn't say anything. It lunged at me, but… It disappeared? Like it could have gone through me, but I didn't feel anything. Well, except for the hot tea I spilled on myself."

"And you—just forgot about this?" Yuuri was visibly perplexed. "That's a pretty big detail to just forget."

"Give me a break, Yuuri," Viktor said, pouting. "It'd been a weird week and I was sick and exhausted. And sore as hell."

Yuuri sighed, and nodded. "Okay. _Okay_. Thank you for telling me."

"I would have told you sooner if I'd thought about it," Viktor insisted. "I'm not keeping secrets from you. I would never. I promise you that."

"I know," Yuuri said. He withdrew his hand from Viktor's chest. "Thank you. I know what it is now."

"You do?" Viktor blinked. "You mean you've seen a dog like that before?"

"Mmn, yes." Yuuri nodded. "…I knew one, once. He was very quiet and kept to himself mostly. But the dog you saw is called a Cù Sidhe."

"So it was like you?"

"Well, yes." Yuuri blinked up at him. "But I'm actually a Cait Sidhe. It's not the exact same. I guess… We're different species? But that's not relevant right now. The Cù Sidhe is also known as the Black Dog—it's… Well, your kind would call them omens of death, but the truth is, we have to actively use our magic to cause things like that. Just seeing a Black Dog isn't going to sentence you to an unfortunate death. He would have to have the intention to make that happen."

"…Okay, so—I saw this dog and it lunged at me. And now I'm going to die?" Viktor frowned. He stuffed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn't pick at his fingers or fiddle with his hair. It took effort to keep up his veneer of calm—he didn't want to freak out, not when Yuuri was trying to explain his world to him. "Dog. You're a cat, then? So does that mean you can do the opposite?"

Yuuri blinked several times before his face twisted and he broke into an ugly, snorting laughter. Viktor's heart skipped a beat. " _Viktor_."

"I mean— not that you can give life or anything, but—" Viktor paused. "You're not going to let me die, are you, Yuuri?"

"I'll do my best," Yuuri said. "To answer your question though… I'm not exactly well loved in human circles either. My kind are seen as bad luck. Sometimes people think my kind steals souls. Others think we bless people's homes if they leave a saucer with cream on their porches on Samhain and curse those that don't. Well. Some of us might feel slighted enough for that, but…"

Yuuri shrugged a bit, expression noncommittal. Viktor reached out again, brushing his fingers over Yuuri's cheek. He was absolutely enthralled. Yuuri narrowed his eyes slightly at Viktor, but he had yet to step out of his space. If Phichit could see them now… Yuuri watched Viktor, ready to bolt at the slightest discomfort, so Viktor didn't push him further than he already had.

"What about _you_?" Viktor asked. "In comparison to other cats?"

"Eh." Yuuri gave another noncommittal gesture with a half shrug. "I'm nothing special. Just a very old cat with a little bit of magic."

"I'm sure you're very special." Viktor grinned. "It's funny, you know? I was just telling Yura the other day that I'm a dog person, but… You're making a very convincing case for turning me into a cat person."

" _Viktor_!" Yuuri half-hissed, half-shrieked. But he was laughing again—and that was what Viktor was aiming for. "I can't believe you—this is serious, and you're—I— wow, _taelea_. _Wow_."

"Do you feel better?" Viktor asked.

"Do _you_?" Yuuri blinked up at him. "You're the one bearing the curse. I'm not the one you should be worried about."

"Of course I'm going to worry about you, Yuuri," Viktor said, frowning. "You're important to me."

“You don’t even know me.” Yuuri sighed and turned his head away from Viktor. He stepped back, giving himself some space after he'd been crowded into Viktor's (of his own volition, trying to get the truth out of him). "Don't do that, Viktor… Please. I can't. Not now."

"Yuuri…"

"I said no." Yuuri bit down own his lip. "You can't… Say things like that. _Please_."

"Okay." Viktor sighed. He gave Yuuri his space, but not without giving his cheek one more caress.

"Please, Vik—"

"It's _okay_ , Yuuri," Viktor said. He withdrew his hand completely. "I respect you. I respect your decisions."

"Oh." Yuuri blinked. He lowered his head, demure as his lashes brushed against his soft cheeks. His glasses slid down his nose. "I'm sorry—"

" _Yuuri_." Viktor smiled a bit, lifting Yuuri's head by the chin and pushing his glasses back up. "You don't need to apologize."

"…Thank you, Viktor." Yuuri pushed Viktor's hand away, careful of his claws. He frowned a bit. "I didn't scratch you at all, did I? They're the one thing I can't hide from humans."

"You didn't scratch me at all," Viktor echoed in the negative. He smiled and caught Yuuri's hand gently, holding it up to look at his fingers. He poked curiously at Yuuri's claws. He marveled at their sharpness. "I wouldn't have complained if you did. It's not like you're _trying_ to hurt me."

"That's good." Yuuri relaxed his shoulders. He didn't pull his hand away, resigning himself to Viktor's curiosity. "You're itching to ask something. What is it?"

"It's nothing that can't wait." Viktor hummed. He let Yuuri's hand slip from his. "So… This is all real? Like. Everything?"

Yuuri cut Viktor an exasperated look, but a certain fondness hid behind it. He rested on hand on his hip, head tilted to the side as he looked up at Viktor, an eyebrow raised. "After all you've been through, you're still not convinced?"

"It's just—" Viktor shrugged. "I spent my whole life thinking it was all old folk tales and superstitions. Everything I thought I knew—even when I knew it wasn't real—well. It's turning out to be kind of… Wrong? It's a bit of a learning curve, you know?"

"I suppose." Yuuri studied him. "You still don't really believe, though, do you?"

"Yuuri." Viktor frowned. "I said I respect you. How can I respect you if I don't believe in your world? I'm trying to learn."

"I'm sorry." Yuuri sighed. "That wasn't fair of me. Ask, then. Even if you think it can wait."

Viktor closed his eyes and tapped his finger against his lips in thought. He rocked on his heels, humming. Yuuri kept a steady eye on him, waiting for the question and expecting something inconsequential.

"This dog," Viktor began. "You said that it can kill people?"

"I—yes? No?" Yuuri blinked. "I mean, we all have the capacity to kill, even without magic. Just like humans. But what I was talking about is… I guess it's innate magic? This Black Dog you saw—it lunged at you? And you said it didn't touch you at all?"

"If it did, I didn't feel it."

"How did it disappear?"

"I don't know," Viktor admitted. "I flinched and had my eyes closed. When I opened them again, it was just—gone. Like it never existed."

"I see…" Yuuri lifted a hand and pressed his index finger knuckle against his chin, brows scrunched in the middle. "I'll have to check when we get back to the house to be certain, but it sounds like something happened to make it target you. It certainly smells like it, anyway."

"…You can _smell_ the dog on me?" Viktor stared, baffled. "That was days ago."

"Not the dog itself, no." Yuuri shook his head. "The mark it left on you. Basically, when it attacked you, instead of physically hurting you, it marked you. A mark of death that essentially just cues the fates to throw whatever it wants at you in order to end your life. Like the chandelier in the beginning."

"So it's _not_ an actual curse?" Viktor asked.

"Eh…" Yuuri waved his hand horizontally. "It's not that straightforward. It is, but it doesn't require planning or spellcasting. And with a spellcast curse, typically those can be reversed, broken, or thrown back to the original caster, if the witch is strong enough."

"So you're saying that Phichit or Seung-gil can't just lift the curse and send it back?"

"Well, they _could_ —with the bad luck, anyway."

"I sense a _but_ coming." Viktor arched an eyebrow.

"But," Yuuri said, mirroring Viktor's expression with the addition of the upturned twitch of lips. He shook his head. "It seems to be linked pretty tightly with the dog's influence. I'm not sure which came first, though. We really should get back to the house for more information. I don't have the same magic that Phichit and Seung-gil do, so I can't pick apart the specifics of what's clinging to you. All I smell is the curse of an angry human and the smoky residue of the Black Dog. …It's nice to know exactly what that scent was. I couldn't place it until you managed to remember for me."

"Well, lead the way, then."

Yuuri nodded and turned away, heading back to the old house. Viktor followed him dutifully, staying close at his heels. He kept within grabbing reach—Yuuri always felt just a little less on edge when he could easily reach out and make sure Viktor was still present. And _yet._ He was still so stubborn about anything even remotely intimate. It was obvious that he cared, but he seemed so— Terrified? Viktor could never tell with Yuuri.

Suddenly, Yuuri stopped. Once again, Viktor walked right into his back. There was a brief pause of silence before Yuuri started laughing. He turned to face Viktor and said, “Didn’t we _just_ have a conversation yesterday about paying attention? This is the second time, you realize.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Viktor raised his hands, palms out. “But why’d you stop?”

“I forgot,” Yuuri said. “I asked you to show me what it was that set that client off.”

“Oh!” Viktor snapped his fingers in recognition. “Right! Right across the street, let’s go.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes with a smile. This time, he followed Viktor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 **taelea** /taɪ.leɪ.jə/ - _affectionate term for close/dear friends but not lovers_ [return to text]


	3. velle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **velle** | _to will ___

"I need to make a phone call." Viktor's voice chilled the room, nipping any warmth short. His expression became stone.

"Of course." Yuuri said, unaffected by Viktor's sudden change. He, too, felt that wintry chill even as fury roiled, burning, in his blood. He held Yuri's cell phone in his hands, turning it over and brushing his fingers along the surface. The back barely had a scratch, but the screen had cracked, spider webbing out to the edges. A few shards of glass had fallen out of place and landed under the jewelry displace. "I'll be calling Phichit and…"

Yuuri trailed off, his face going almost as blank as Viktor's—and not for Yuri being missing.

If Viktor noticed the fury coursing through Yuuri's body, the pinch of his lips, the flash of crimson in his eyes, he said absolutely nothing. He said nothing, even when Yuuri's hand came down on top of the jewelry case, claws scratching against the glass in a screeching trail. The glass webbed out, similar to Yuri's phone screen. Crackling continued as Yuuri kept his hand pressed against the case. Yuuri's gaze had shifted from the phone to the glittering jewelry in the case. His eyes were an ember in the dark, flickering between fear and fury. He curled his fingers into a fist, the glass screaming under his claws. It shattered, filling the case with shards.

"Where did you get these." Yuuri's voice came out as a sharp hiss. Viktor didn't notice—he'd already stepped away to talk on the phone. Yuuri whirled on him, reaching out to grab at Viktor's shirt. His claws just grazed the fabric, barely tearing it. Viktor was already out of reach. " _Vik—_ "

"Chris." Viktor said once the other end of the phone clicked on. "Sorry to bother you so late in the evening."

Yuuri blinked. Chris? He stepped closer, listening.

_"Nonsense, Viktor,_ " Chris replied. _"You can call on me any time, day or night. We've missed you. You haven't shown up for happy hour in weeks. The bar's getting lonely."_

"I'm sure Swanky Bubbles is thriving just fine without me," Viktor said. He didn't smile. "I didn't call for a friendly chat. I need your help."

_"Now that's even rarer, coming from you."_ Chris's voice was tinny, but Yuuri could tell it had lost its playfulness. _"What do you need, my friend?_ "

"Yuri is missing."

Silence fell on the other end of the line. Yuuri took that as his moment. He pushed his way into Viktor's space. "Is that Christophe? Chris?"

_"Yuuri?"_ Chris sounded surprised. _"Viktor, what are you doing with Yuuri? Never mind. Where are you? I'll be there in a minute."_

"I'm at the shop." Viktor pushed back against Yuuri, frowning at him in confusion. He mouthed at Yuuri, ' _how do you know Chris_?'. Yuuri didn't answer, just kept looking up at Viktor with the same steely gaze he'd had on the jewelry. "The doors are unlocked for you."

_"I'm on my way."_ The line went dead. Viktor dropped his phone into his pocket and focused all his attention on Yuuri now.

"What the—"

"You know Chris. How?" Yuuri dragged Viktor back over to the jewelry case, claws digging into Viktor's arm. "And where the hell did you get these?"

Viktor winced, carefully prying Yuuri's hand off of him. Thankfully, Yuuri put up no resistance. Viktor finally looked at what had Yuuri so upset. He frowned. Those things again…

"I must be losing my goddamn mind," Viktor huffed under his breath. "These things started this whole mess."

"You have no idea, Viktor," Yuuri said. He pointed at the ear cuffs with an accusing finger. "These _things_ are nothing but trouble. Where the _fuck_ did you get them, Viktor? They shouldn't be here. I thought—Yuri said—"

Yuuri held Yuri's phone tight against his chest, as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. Viktor blinked. Yuuri was _terrified_. How had Viktor not see—oh, he'd been ignoring Yuuri in lieu of getting in touch with Chris. He vaguely recalled Yuuri trying to get his attention. Viktor sighed. "I'm sorry, Yuuri."

"No… It's—" Yuuri bit on his lip. His sharp canines cut into the soft flesh, drawing blood. "Finding—finding Yuri is more important than my—"

"Yuuri." Viktor turned to face him completely, placing his hands on Yuuri's shoulders. "Yuri's phone is here—which means _he_ was here—right at this spot."

"Yuri said—" Yuuri whimpered, sucking in a desperate breath. He turned on the phone, waiting for it to power up. "He said that those ear cuffs were gone. That they'd never show up to haunt us again. He…"

The phone beeped, getting Yuuri's attention. He looked down and swiped across the broken screen, easily getting through Yuri's security. He opened up the last messages sent, and Yuuri sighed. "Oh, Yuri… Always so brash… I knew he was looking into something, but… This is over even our heads—he should have known better than to go off on his own like this."

"Yura never listened all that well," Viktor said. "He always did what he wanted."

"That's not—" Yuuri sighed. "I said that it was his story to tell, but there's no time for that now."

The door chime tinkled and the two of them turned toward it. Yuuri's face lit up, and even Viktor smiled. Chris stepped into the shop and looked around. He shook his head and sauntered over to Yuuri and Viktor. He put his hands his on his hips, head cocked to the side.

"I leave you alone for a month or two and trouble raises its head," Chris said. "Yuuri, the last time I saw you, you were…"

Yuuri coughed slightly. "Leave midsummer out of this. Now isn't the time. Our Yura is missing. And the only broken glass is this case—and I broke it. Which means Yura didn't fight back."

"Broken glass? Fight back?" Viktor stared at Yuuri. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah…" Yuuri sighed. He looked back toward the display case. "Yuri is… Well, obviously you know he's not your real nephew, since you just…"

"Plucked him up off the street?" Chris offered, grinning at Viktor—the expression at odds with the seriousness of the situation.

"Yes, Chris, thank you," Viktor said, dryly.

"Enough." Yuuri sighed. "How long ago was it… Five hundred, now? No—it'd be six hundred now. Six hundred years ago, I promised his mother that I would look after him. _Five_ hundred years ago, he died on me once."

"Wait—what?" Viktor frowned. "Okay—I… I shouldn't be surprised about this; Yuri always was a little… Strange. But—Six hundred years? How— How old does that make _you_?"

"…That's very rude, Viktor," Chris said, arching his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry." Viktor had the decency to look ashamed. "…how does this fit in with broken glass…?"

"Yuri's mother—she was one of the elder ban sidhe." Yuuri fiddled with the phone in his hands. He ran his fingers over the spiderweb cracks. "One of my— Ah. One of our court's wisest advisors. After her passing, I've looked after Yuri as if he were my own. I won't have him die on me again."

"So Yura is Fey like you?" Viktor asked.

"Us," Chris corrected. "I admit, I was surprised to find out you knew Yuuri, Viktor. But little Yuri is…"

"His father was human," Yuuri finished.

"…So Chris isn't human, either." Viktor frowned. "Is _everyone_ I know a fairy?"

"Well…" Yuuri hummed. "You know Phichit and Seung-gil now. They're not Fey. Technically."

"Yuuri, should I be insulted that I wasn't counted as one of your—"

"The court's advisors, yes, I know," Yuuri said, cutting him a lot. Chris just grinned at him.

"Your humility is astounding."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Yuuri shook his head. He sighed. "Yuri is one of ours. Chris—we don't have a lot of time to get you up to speed. Once we have Yuri back, I'll explain everything, but—"

Yuuri stopped and pointed to jewelry case. "He's back."

Chris's playful air dropped immediately. His expression soured as he walked over to the case and peered in. He reached into the case and scooped the ear cuffs out, clenching his jaw as the faint traces of iron imbued into the silver stung against his skin. He didn't have the age or power that Yuuri denied he had, so the iron prickled at him. He looked at the cuffs, rolled them in his hand.

"Chris…. There's iron—your hand—" Yuuri stepped forward.

"Yuuri." Chris held up a hand, and Yuuri halted. "I'm fine. And more importantly, _you're_ fine."

Viktor frowned at the exchange between them, thinking. Iron—Yuuri said there was iron in those things? Then—he flashed back to the argument that started this cascading domino train. He stared at Yuuri, wide-eyed, as if Yuuri held all the answers in the world. And, in a sense, he did.

"He was talking about you." Viktor felt like he'd been punched. All this time. Yuuri was the reason for this?

"What." Yuuri turned to Viktor—Chris did, too, frowning.

"What do you mean, he was talking about Yuuri? Who?" Chris tightened his fist around the jewelry in his hand. Smoke sizzled off his skin from the iron.

"There was a man that came in—I thought he might have come in to shop, but he walked right up to the case and started ranting about how they didn't belong to me." Viktor frowned. He'd told this story before.

"What did he say, _exactly_ about these cuffs?" Chris stepped between them—as if protecting Yuuri _from_ Viktor.

"You know I can't remember exact wo—" Viktor stopped. He looked over Chris's shoulder. "Wait. He said they were gifts for him. Then… _'They are powerful beyond your wildest imagination, capable of bringing the most beautiful creature in the world to his knees'_. I had no idea—I kept asking who he was talking about. It must have been Yuuri…"

Chris clenched his fist so tightly that the cuffs in his hand crumpled into almost nothing. He turned to Yuuri. "Yuri's seen these. He must know—do you think?”

"He can't—Yura is reckless, but not _that_ stupid." Yuuri put a hand on Chris's arm to steady himself. He looked stricken. His cheeks had lost their color and his eyes their fire. "He can't have—"

"He probably did." Chris sighed. "He was the one that pulled those wretched things off of you in the first place. Have you told Phichit and Seung-gil about this?"

"I was going to call them—about Yuri missing," Yuuri said. "But then I saw the cuffs, and—I—"

"It's okay." Chris wound an arm around Yuuri's waist and kept him upright. "We all thought he was gone for good."

"Who are you talking about?" Viktor pressed. "What about Yura? Is he safe?"

"Yuri…" Yuuri sighed, closing his eyes. He let Chris support his weight. "I think— Yuri might be fine. His mother was the elder ban sidhe. Pity the fool who gets him really yelling. Chris, call Phichit and Seung-gil on the way back. I'm not going to have thumbs for awhile."

"What?" Viktor blinked. But he didn't get to ask anymore questions as Yuuri shrunk before him, smaller and smaller until he was nothing more than a large house cat, solid black with russet eyes, white paws and white patches along his torso and up his right shoulder. The cat—Yuuri, Viktor reminded himself—climbed up Chris's clothes and perched on his shoulders. Yuuri wasn't kidding—no thumbs.

"Gee, Yuuri, I thought I was an advisor, not a chariot." Chris rolled his eyes and reached up, ruffling Yuuri's fur. Yuuri bit at his hand. "Okay, okay. Advisor, bodyguard, court healer, and lastly, chariot."

The response Chris got was a simple purr. Viktor blinked at the exchange.

"Is Yuuri…?"

"No." Yuuri spoke—Viktor startled at the sound.

"Oh. You can talk like that?"

"He doesn't like to." Chris rolled his eyes. He plucked Yuuri off his shoulder and deposited him in Viktor's arms. Viktor scrambled to make sure Yuuri was secure, four little cat legs bundled neatly. Well. Not entirely _little_. Yuuri was a monster of a cat, probably something like a Maine Coon. Big and almost entirely fur. Yuuri hissed at Chris. He just grinned. "Well, it's true."

"No, Viktor, I'm not anything," Yuuri said, ignoring Chris. His tail twitched. "The court is in shambles. Chris and I are the only ones left. Devi is gone. Our bear is gone, too. I don't know what happened to him. Just me and Chris, left over from the court."

"That's not _entirely_ true," Chris said. "Phichit and Seung-gil are Fey enough, thanks to you. And Yuri has been itching to succeed his mother. Devi would be proud of him. And there's also—"

"Truly." Yuuri sighed. "But we have to get him back, first. And we're not asking the High Magus about anything unless we have no choice."

«And what of Viktor?» Chris asked, switching to a language Viktor had never heard before.

«You accused him of being rude, and now you're doing it,» Yuuri replied. «But what of him?»

«Intending on bringing him into your Court?»

«Oh, don't you start, too.» Yuuri hissed. «Seung-gil and Phichit already have… Ideas. About whatever this is.»

«Oh? That's an interesting development.» Chris grinned. «You must tell me all about it, _Your Majesty_.»

Yuuri groaned. He adjusted himself in Viktor's arms so that he couldn't see Chris anymore. He flicked his tail.

"Uh—what was that all about?" Viktor asked.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Viktor." Yuuri grumbled. "It's not related to getting Yuri back. Try not to get run over while we're on our way back. I'm not strong enough to save you again right now. Too tired. Too drained…"

Yuuri drifted off into a light doze. Not long after, he started purring. Viktor blinked at Yuuri's smaller form. He looked at Chris, as if wondering what he was supposed to do now. He certainly didn't want to move his arms—he thought his walking was jostling enough. "Chris?"

"We'll talk about it later," Chris said. He offered his friend a smile. It was tight—Viktor had never seen Chris look so serious. "Rhys is back. Rhys Bors, that _rat_. I probably shouldn't have broken those cuffs. Phichit would have wanted to look at them."

"…Yura will be okay? If this—Rhys person is someone even Yuuri is scared of—" Viktor chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Yuuri isn't scared of Rhys, not in the way you think," Chris replied. "It's definitely not my story to tell. He'd kill me. But Rhys doesn't want Yuri. I'm not even sure Rhys wants _Yuuri_. The last time any of us saw the bastard, he'd—" Chris continued in a string of angry words from that lilting language he shared with Yuuri.

"He what? What did he do?"

Without quite realizing it, they'd made it all the way back to the little house that Phichit and Seung-gil lived in. The two in question were on the porch, waiting for them. If they were surprised to see Chris with him, they didn't show it. The only thing they showed was a grimness that seemed normal for Seung-gil but was wrong on Phichit's face.

"He had us executed," Phichit said. His voice was cold steel—it lost all of the warmth that he'd shown earlier. "It's a good thing they don't burn us at the stake anymore. I don't recommend dying by fire."

"We don't recommend dying at all, but…" Seung-gil rubbed his temple, looking at Yuuri's sleeping form in Viktor's arms. He snorted softly. "When Yuuri is involved—"

"It's not his fault," Phichit said. "Don't let him hear you talk like that. It's been five hundred years and he still feels guilty."

"I _know_ it wasn't his fault," Seung-gil replied, frowning. He said something to Phichit in that strange language. Viktor watched some of the color return to Phichit's cheeks.

"If I see that slimy, good-for-nothing, skeevy—" Phichit cut off, courtesy of Seung-gil's hands—one in his hair, the other covering his mouth.

"You've been around Yuri too long," Seung-gil said. He turned his attention back to Viktor and Chris. "Christophe. Does your presence mean what I think it does?"

"You'll have to ask Yuuri that," Chris said. "Viktor called me about Yuri—I didn't know he knew Yuuri. Or you. But I know as much as you do about what all this means—if we're rebuilding the court or not. It _is_ Yuuri's decision, though."

"And he'll ask us what we want, and then we'll talk in circles for three days." Phichit sighed. "We might as we just do it anyway and tell him its for his own good. Have you seen our little bear, Chris?"

"No," Chris said, shaking his head. "But I heard howling the other night. Could have been him—though I hope it wasn't. Whoever it was making that noise, they were in pain."

Yuuri's ears flicked, but he didn't stir from his doze. Viktor adjusted his hold slightly. He walked up the steps and to the front door. The two witches watched him, expressions stern. Chris was the only one that looked even remotely amused, as the door opened and Viktor disappeared into the house with Yuuri in his arms.

"So." Chris hopped up onto the porch and dropped into the quaint little swinging bench. "Yuri is missing. And Rhys is back. The Court is gathering again. Do you think—"

"What do you mean, Yuri's missing?" Phichit scrambled to his feet, nearly falling out of Seung-gil's lap. "Does Yuuri know?"

Seung-gil sighed and pulled Phichit back to him, threading his fingers through Phichit's hair. Phichit relaxed, though he was still clearly upset.

"Yuuri knows," Chris confirmed. "He and Viktor were the ones that found out before I was called. And we know Rhys has something to do with it, because Viktor had those infernal pieces of silver in his shop."

"Are you fucking—" Phichit bit down on his tongue to keep from raising his voice. "Does Viktor know what those are? Is Yuuri okay? You didn't bring them back here, did you?"

"Yuuri's exhausted. He nearly lost it when Viktor said they were what his 'client' from the other day pitched a fit about. And no, I didn't bring them. I—kind of broke them. They were in my hand and—"

"And?" Seung-gil frowned.

"Apparently Rhys had told Viktor that he didn't have the right to those cuffs and that they were gifts made to 'bring Yuuri to his knees'. Or something." Chris ran a hand through his hair. "What a fucking mess."

"I'll fucking kill him." Phichit's voice was so low, so sharp that both Chris and Seung-gil shivered. "If I see his face, he's dead. I'll drop a planet on him."

Seung-gil sighed. Chris snorted.

" _aepaeli_ [3], you don't have that kind of power. No one does," Seung-gil soothed his fingers through Phichit's hair. "Even if you did, let's not destroy this planet by dropping another one on it. We're all angry, but that's counterproductive."

Phichit huffed. "Can we set our bear on him?"

"We don't even know where he is," Chris reminded Phichit. "You know as well as I do that Yuuri's Court—our Court—splintered and vanished after you two died."

"Yuuri asked us not to look for anyone," Seung-gil said.

"Some nonsense about not being worthy." Phichit huffed and puffed his cheeks out. "Nonsense, I tell you. _oitreir_ [4]."

Chris and Seung-gil just nodded. Phichit was right, but it was useless to argue with Yuuri about whether or not he was worthy of something.

* * *

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Yuri snapped out as he tumbled to the floor, dropped unceremoniously from the shadow that had enveloped him back at Viktor's shop. He rolled onto his knees and pushed himself up, dusting himself off. He glared at the shadow. "What the fuck was all that for? You couldn't just let me go normally? You had to fucking drop me. Fucking hell."

The shadow materialized itself into a large black dog. It tilted its head at Yuri. Silver and blue cuffs dangled from damaged ears. The dog sat in front of Yuri, staring at him. It seemed as though the dog was studying him. Its eyes were certainly intelligent enough. Yuri narrowed his eyes at the dog. It didn't move away. It simply laid itself down at Yuri's feet, blinking up at him. Yuri stepped back, scowling.

"Who the fuck are you, anyway?" Yuri snapped. His eyes flickered to the cuffs embedded into the dog's ears. His scowl deepened as his face twisted in fury. Those _fucking_ shackles—Yuri was going to _kill_ that foul excuse for a— His thoughts stopped when the dog whined. Yuri blinked. The dog got back on its feet, shaking its fur out.

«You smell like the Feyking.»

The language startled Yuri. It had been a few years since he'd last spoken it. It took him a moment to respond.

«What do you want with Katsuki?» Yuri hissed, eyes narrowed.

«Help.» The dog said. Its tail swished against the floor. It twitched its ears and the cuffs jingled as the silver and aquamarines rattled against each other. Blood crusted the edge of its ears where the cuffs were forcefully embedded. They were no longer fancy trinkets of faith and love—not that they were to begin with. They were truly shackles now, holding this dog captive.

«If you want help, why did you kidnap me, asshole?» Yuri crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the dog. Even standing, the dog's eyes were level with Yuri's.

«No choice.» The dog shook out its fur again. The cuffs jingled again, the tassels getting tangled up in themselves.

«So it's really true.» Yuri curled his fingers into a fist, his blunt nails digging into his palms. «That asshole's back. I'll fuckin' kill him.»

«You were snooping. He wanted you out of the way.» The dog turned its head away. «Wanted you killed. I couldn't. You smell too much like the Feyking.»

Yuri frowned. «Of course I do. Who are you to Katsuki, anyway?»

«Can't say.» The dog seemed to shrug. «I'm not sure he even knows me.»

«Show your face.» Yuri jabbed at the dog's nose. «Show me who you were to Katsuki.»

«I _can't_.» The dog snarled, backing away from Yuri.

«Your name, then. Give me that.»

«I can't do that, either.» The dog backed itself up against the wall as Yuri marched at it.

«And why not?» Yuri hissed. «If you knew Katsuki and were loyal to him, you'd give me your name.»

«I _can't_ , Yuri!» The dog barked.

«How do you know my name?» Yuri jabbed at the dog again. «Tell me that, at least.»

« _I don't know_.» The dog pressed itself against the wall. «The shackles—»

«The—Oh, _fuck_.» Yuri's aggression melted away. «Shit. You're the Bear. Fuck. That sick bastard's traumatized Katsuki enough. The fucking _Bear_? And I thought the Court was thin already…»

Yuuri would be livid—Yuri shook his head. He approached the dog, hands raised and palms open. The dog watched him with a suspicious eye.

«What are you talking about?» The dog bared its teeth.

«Katsuki's going to be so pissed off…» Yuri huffed and placed his hands on either side of the dog's head. «How much control does that asshole have over you?»

«Enough.» The dog said. It relaxed under Yuri's touch. «I can't change form. I can't ignore orders. I can't come and go as I please.»

«Which means you can't let me go to get Katsuki.»

The dog shook it head.

«Or tell me your actual name.»

Another shake. The jewelry jangled. Yuri had half a mind to yank them off himself, but as soon as he reached for the dog's ears, it jerked back.

«It hurts, then.»

A nod, this time.

«Do you know where that bastard is?»

«No.»

«Okay.» Yuri stepped away from the dog—The Bear—and grumbled. He paced around the room, running his slender fingers through his pale hair. «You can't let me go or give me your name. But you know Katsuki. You're the Court’s Bear. Katsuki will know you.»

«The Court’s Bear…» The dog looked at Yuri like he'd gone mad. «You keep calling me the Bear. Why?»

«We've never personally met, so I don't know your real name.» Yuri huffed. «I just know your title.»

«I know your name, but not who you are.» The dog tilted his head.

«Great.» Yuri frowned at it—at him. The floor would have a worn track in it by the time Yuri finally stopped pacing. He'd never been anxious before, not like this, but he had a perfectly good excuse. He was kidnapped, his kidnapper was slowly losing his mind and only seemed to remember Yuuri (it _is_ hard to forget your _king_ , after all, but still), and perhaps the worst of it all was the fact that that _fucking traitor_ was back to terrorize Yuuri again. And Viktor accidentally started it this time. Yuri groaned, scrubbing at his face before coming to a stop in front of the grimy windows. «Those accursed things are turning your brain to mush. Look, Katsuki already knows I'm gone. You need to find a way to get him here, since you can't let me go. You know who has you enslaved, don't you?»

The Bear shook his head. Yuri hissed and banged his forehead against the window.

«I'm sorry,» he said. Yuri just looked at him. He blinked slowly.

«You have nothing to apologize for,» Yuri snapped. He looked back out the window, pressing his hands against it. «You made me drop my phone, though. So I can't call for the help you're asking for.»

The dog seemed to flinch. He shrank against the floor, ears flat, realizing the mistake. But there was nothing to be done about it now—he'd been ordered to kidnap Yuri and get him out of the way. He'd been ordered to _kill_ Yuri, but loyalty to anyone linked to his king overrode that order. So kidnapping it was, and taking Yuri away and hiding him from his new, unsavory master had been the next best option for him that wasn't technically deliberate disobedience.

«I have an idea, though.» Yuri said, tapping on the glass. «But, it's gonna fuckin' hurt.»

«Will it help?» The dog raised his head.

«It'll give you enough time to find Katsuki, yeah.» Yuri shrugged.

«Then I'll do whatever it takes,» the dog said. «How long will your idea take?»

«Oh, a few seconds.» Yuri turned to face the dog. «It's _really_ gonna fuckin' hurt. I'm not kidding. And you'll probably go deaf for awhile. Lucky for you, Katsuki will recognize you on sight. He doesn't forget his Court easily.»

«He'll know to follow me? To come get you?»

«Uh…» Yuri looked around and patted at his clothes, looking for something that would get the message across to Yuuri. His hand came up to the tiger's eye necklace. His fingers curled around it and he sighed. It would only be temporary… Yuri chewed on his lip as he pulled the twine over his head and fastened it securely over the dog's head. «I swear if you don't bring this back to me, I'll explode your brain.»

«Noted.» The dog sat still as Yuri finished. The tiger's eye seemed to glow against his dark fur. «Hurry. The new master is—»

«Not your master for much longer.» Yuri hissed. «Are you ready? Your ears might bleed. My mother was an elder ban sidhe, you know.»

«I didn't know.»

The dog waited. Yuri frowned at him before rolling his eyes. He took a deep breath, and _shrieked_. The glass windows shattered—not just in that room, but from some of the adjacent ones, too. The dog howled in pain, scrabbling against the tile floor and tossing his head. Blood trickled from one ear and the dog pawed at it. But the shriek only lasted a few seconds, and it had done its job. Off balance, the dog wobbled off to find Yuuri; tiger's eye warmed his fur. Yuri watched him go and settled onto the floor, leaning against the wall.

God, this was going to be so _boring_. He hated waiting. Hated it. But it was all he could do while he waited for the Guardian Bear to return with Yuuri. And probably his whole entourage, once Yuuri recognizes the monstrosities on bleeding ears. It had been too much to hope that the bastard that tore Yuuri apart and shattered his soul would stay gone, apparently. Yuri had privately wished that the piece of shit had died sometime in the last few centuries, but evidently he was still around and enslaving other Fey to get to Yuuri. Again. Yuri banged his head against back against the wall, groaning.

Rhys Bors. The asshole that started this entire mess half a millennium ago—and apparently starting up more shit now. That asshole could rot in hell. And Yuri wanted to be the one to put him there. He itched to get his hands around that bastard's throat. How many more names could Yuri use before he had to use his name? Fuckin' rat bastard.

Yuri closed his eyes and thought back to all those years ago.

_Running. Running and running and running. His lungs burned in his chest as his feet pounded the ground like a drum and his heart rattled in the cage of his chest. The voices of disgruntled villagers chased behind him, shouting slurs and expletives. That was the price of being only Feyborn. Only pain and torture awaited if the villagers caught up with him. If he could make it to the edge of the woods, he'd be under Fey protection—not that he_ wanted _it. He could have easily dealt with one or two people, but it seemed the entire village population had showed up to lynch him for being born with dirty blood._

_It was stupid, venturing out into the human villages the way he had. He should have had someone with him. But he hadn't wanted anyone to know what he was doing—all he'd wanted was a glimpse of his father. It hadn't occurred to him at the time that his father had most likely died of old age by then, but he was young and naive. And his mother wasn't around to tell him not to go. He bit his lip, teeth slicing the soft flesh. Blood welled up and dripped down his chin before he could wipe it away. It dropped from his chin to his clothes. He wouldn't be surprised if some of it made it to the ground—which was finally getting softer now that he was out of the village._

_"You can't run forever, filthy Froublood!" The villagers called after him. And it was true enough—but he didn't_ need _to run forever. He just needed to make it to the woods. As soon as he stepped across the threshold, he'd be under the protection of the Feyking's Court, and not even halfwit human villagers would be able to get to him. Lost deep in his thoughts as he was, he didn't see the dip in the grass. His foot caught in a hole, his ankle twisted, and he hit the ground. The impact forced the breath out of him, making him wheeze. He tried to push himself to his feet, but pain bloomed in his ankle and he collapsed back on the grass. He wouldn't make it._

_"We've got you now, you filthy thing." The village leader loomed over him. The mob had caught up quicker than he'd hoped._

_"Oh, fuck_ off _." He snarled—it certainly didn't help his situation._

_"And let you slip through our fingers again?" The leader asked, sneering down at him. "Get him, boys!"_

_He yelped when the flaming end of a torch hit his shoulder and the points of a pitchfork jabbed him in the side. He curled in on himself, as protective as he could be with a mob descending on him with the full force of their fear and hatred. If you asked him later, he would deny to the heavens that he cried—but it was hard not to when you were being beaten to an inch of your life while bleeding on the grass. Tears left tracks down his face and mixed with the blood still coming from his lip._

_Eventually, the pain numbed into nothing. He pried open his eyes, wondering if he couldn't feel anything because they'd stopped or he'd died. Through the slits between his eyelids, he watched as villagers slowly began to disperse, anger and energy both spent. The leader was still there, and saw his eyes open. The last thing he saw was the flat end of a shovel coming down from above. He heard the sickening sound it made as it connected with his head. And then, there was nothing._

_No feeling, no hearing, no smelling, no seeing. Just darkness. Emptiness._

_It seemed like an eternity when he next opened his bleary eyes. The first thing he saw was the black, starry night of the sky. So he'd been rolled over—by who?_

_«Yura.»_

_Yuri blinked a few times more before focusing on the cat that was staring down at his face while sitting on his chest. He should be in pain, but he wasn't. Why?_

_«Yura, relax.» The cat said._

_The cat was speaking. Great. He really was dead._

_«You're not dead and you know who I am.» The cat sounded exasperated. Yuri must have said he was dead out loud, then, because cats don't read minds. And neither does—_

_«Fuckin' hell, Katsuki.» Yuri groaned, rolling over to his side and knocking Yuuri off of his chest. «The hell happened? I'm supposed to be dead.»_

_«You were.» The cat sat back down after being pushed over. «Your mother would kill me if I let anything happen to you. But I was a few minutes late… It was lucky that Otabek was able to chase them off when he did. I might not have been able to get to you, otherwise.»_

_«You. Used one of your lives on me?» Yuri squinted at Yuuri. «That was stupid.»_

_«You're family,» Yuuri said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Maybe it was. «Are you feeling well enough to walk?»_

_«As if I'd let you tote me around like a rock.» Yuri grunted. He wasn't looking at Yuuri when the cat changed into a man._

_«Let's go home, then.» Yuuri offered his hand to Yuri, smiling when Yuri took it without complaint._

Ugh.

Was the fleabag back yet?

Yuri opened his eyes and saw no cù sidhe, no furious Feyking.

Fuck.

Yuri flopped over on his side, exhaling. His hair fell into his face.

"This is so fucking boring."

* * *

Yuuri was sitting on the porch, turning his silver saucer over in his hands. It hadn't been filled in a long time—but he also hadn't _gone_ anywhere, either, so Phichit and Seung-gil hadn't needed to call him home. Home—where he'd locked himself up after that fateful trip to Viktor's shop. He thought he'd never see those shackles again. They'd been a beautiful gift—presented as a token of love and devotion only to have his heart torn from his chest and stomped on. Betrayed and his friends murdered. Yuuri closed his eyes and sighed. That night… God. That night. He had almost forgotten it. But the world was cruel, and the only mercy ever given to him had been to spare him from watching the deaths of his friends all those centuries ago. Yuuri clenched his hands around the saucer, bending the silver in the shape of his fingers.

The others were inside somewhere, discussing what to do about Yuri missing and Rhys's return. Yuuri had left them in the den, gliding through the house and incense smoke like a spectre. Viktor had tried to follow him outside, but Chris had grabbed hold of his arm and held him back. Yuuri was grateful for that—he wasn't ready to be coddled or pampered. And—it wasn't fair, not to Viktor, but Yuuri was still reeling from the discovery that those _things_ were in his possession. Yuuri knew—he _knew_ —that there was no way Viktor could have possibly known about them. And—Yuuri had probably scared him with his freak out. Chris, Phichit, and Seung-gil were probably trying to explain to Viktor what happened and why. Part of him was grateful, but the other part—Yuuri should be the one telling his story to Viktor. He shouldn't have left that burden to the others. But, then again, it wasn't just his story, was it? It was all of theirs. His heartbreak, the witch burning, what happened to Chris—

Yuuri should be telling the story, too. But he _couldn't_. He was too weak—to cowardly. He had started to let Viktor in—he really did. But then those silver cuffs showed up and any progress he'd made reset to zero. Yuuri sighed again. He tossed the saucer into the yard, scowling after it. What good was he, if he couldn't face his own past and give Viktor the respect and courtesy of telling him the truth? He was useless—his Court was in shambles, his friends were disappointed in him, he was pushing Viktor away, and—Yuri was missing. _Missing_. The last place Yuri had been reeked of fury and shadows. The Black Dog had been there, of course. The same one that Viktor had seen at Celestino's cafe. Yuuri scrubbed at his face with his hands. Some Fey ruler he was supposed to be.

Even as he denied his status to everyone around him, he wondered who would want a useless Feyking like him. Yuuri dropped his head, wrapping his arms around the back of it while his knees supported his elbows. His shoulders shook. He didn't notice when someone sat down next to him, not until a hand rubbed at his back, firm and steady. Yuuri instinctively leaned into his company's side, his breath hitching as he shook. The hand kept rubbing soothing circles against his back, a warm comfort even through the fabric of his shirt, even as Yuuri latched onto the body next to him. They made a strangled noise, and Yuuri immediately withdrew, wiping at his eyes.

"Sorry, Seung-gil," Yuuri muttered, pressing the heels of his palms. "I'll keep it together from now on."

"Idiot." Seung-gil rolled his eyes, removing his hand from Yuuri's back. "You're allowed to cry, you know."

"He's _back_."

"Mmn." Seung-gil looked out across the yard. "Why'd you throw the dish?"

"I didn't like my reflection." Yuuri grumbled. He rubbed his face. "Still don't. And I haven't gone anywhere, so it's not like you needed to summon me back…"

"That's true enough," Seung-gil said. "You know Phichit's gleefully terrorizing Viktor?"

"Poor Viktor." There was nothing in Yuuri's voice. No warmth, no steel, nothing. Simply hollow. "Should have warned him about that."

"We should have," Seung-gil agreed. "But we're a little preoccupied, don't you think?"

"Is he going to kill you again?" Yuuri whimpered. "I don't have enough—"

"Don't even _think_ about it, Katsuki Yuuri," Seung-gil snapped—harsher than he'd intended. "It won't come to that."

Yuuri silenced immediately. He wrung his hands together, chewing on his lip. Seung-gil was right - it wouldn't. They weren't going to die this time. Yuuri didn't need to worry himself sick. They weren't being separated this time. They would stick together, get Yuri back, and deal with Rhys one last time. Yuuri held his head between his knees and took deep, shuddering breath.

"I feel sick…." Yuuri groaned. He sniffed.

"I'd get Viktor, but Phichit's not done eviscerating him." Seung-gil shrugged. "And you'd probably push him off the porch anyway."

Yuuri made a noncommittal noise in response. Phichit _would_ be having the time of his life. He hadn't gotten the chance to give Rhys Bors the same treatment before shit hit the fan, as they say. Maybe if he had, then they wouldn't be in this situation, maybe Rhys would have just left them alone. Or at the very least, wouldn't have been able to use Yuuri to get Phichit and Seung-gil killed.

"I think—" Yuuri stopped and shook his head, still curled up in his protective ball. His leg bounced in an anxious rhythm. It shook the step they were sitting on, and Seung-gil had to scoot away to keep from getting jostled too much.

"Go on."

"…Maybe we should tell him?" Yuuri finished in a small voice. "I can't keep hurting him by blindly pushing him away. He hasn't asked anything of me, but I still—He has a right to know what happened to me. To all of us."

"Are you sure?" Seung-gil tilted his head toward Yuuri, eyebrows arched. "There's no going back from that, you know. You gave yourself up like this before. Are you ready to do it again?"

"I'm afraid that he thinks I can't stand him," Yuuri said. "But that's not true. I—"

Seung-gil cut him off, pressing a hand on his shoulder. Yuuri unfurled himself and looked up at Seung-gil, confused.

"What?"

"Your heart to heart with Viktor is going to have to wait," Seung-gil said, nodding toward the street. "Company's coming."

Yuuri looked up from his slouch on the porch. A dog ambled up the street, heading right for the house. Yuuri blinked at it, body going slack as it got closer and closer. He stared at the dog. It was huge—with fur blacker than pitch. Familiarity came off it in waves. Yuuri stood up from the porch and stepped down, meeting the dog at the end of the walkway. He dropped to his knees, cupping his hands on the dog's furry cheeks. He could feel his eyes sting. This dog—

«You're back…» Yuuri rubbed his thumb along the dog's cheek. He paused at the sight of familiar silver and blue. Bile rose in his throat as his face pinched in distaste. The dog tried to shrink away from him, tense with the negativity radiating off of Yuuri's shoulders, but Yuuri kept it close. His fingers slid into the dog's fur, brushing over twine and his eyes landed on the lump of tiger's eye hanging around its neck. «Oh, Otabek… What has he done…»

The dog—Otabek—jerked back from Yuuri's hands. He looked up at Yuuri, dark eyes wide. Otabek didn't respond—it was almost as if—

«You can't hear me, can you?» Yuuri reached out, but quickly withdrew his hand again, staring at the cuffs embedded into Otabek's pointed ears, weighing them down. He frowned at the blood crusting the silver, and noticed that the blood dripping from inside his ears was fresh—not quite drying yet… Between that and the tiger's eye… Yuuri couldn't help but smile just a little bit. «Of course you can't. Yura sent you, didn't he?»

"Yuuri, is that who I think it is?" Seung-gil asked, getting to his feet.

When Otabek didn't answer, Yuuri turned to Seung-gil and nodded. "Get the others. He knows where Yura is."

"Chris, too?"

"Yeah. He's a better healer than I am," Yuuri said. "Yura did a number on Otabek's ears. Most likely because of these infernal cuffs."

"So that's where the real ones went…" Seung-gil sighed. He turned and headed back into the house, leaving Yuuri with the wounded Otabek.

* * *

When Seung-gil entered the house, he blinked. Viktor sat on the couch, looking particularly cowed, but Phichit didn't have a trace of delight on his face after a successful shovel talk. Rather, Phichit—and Chris, as well—were visibly stricken. They looked between each other, to Viktor, and then at Seung-gil.

"What happened outside?" Phichit asked, rubbing his arms as if he were chilled.

"What do you mean?" Seung-gil tilted his head.

"You seriously don't feel that?" Chris asked. He gestured at the air. "Yuuri's _furious_. What the hell happened?"

"Oh." Seung-gil nodded. He supposed he hadn't noticed Yuuri's shift in mood because he'd been out there with him and watched the whole thing take place. "It's Otabek. He's come back."

"Our Otabear's home?" Phichit leapt to his feet, too hopeful to keep himself contained. "Then we should be delighted—Yuuri should be celebrating."

"Otabek has the cuffs on." Seung-gil shook his head, frowning as Phichit's mood tanked. "They were forced on, by the look of it. But we know where Yuri is now. Otabek knows where Yuri is."

"That _filthy—_ "

"Easy, Phichit." Chris clasped a hand over Phichit's shoulder. "Our priority is to bring Yuri home and get Otabek out of whatever hold Rhys has on him. Skinning the bastard can come later."

"Is Yura safe?" Viktor cut in, getting to his feet. His fists clenched at his sides. "I want to see him."

"Settle down, Vik," Chris said. "If Otabek found his way back to Yuuri, then everything will be just fine."

"But Seung-gil said that the cuffs have been forced onto him," Phichit said, grinding his teeth. "Otabear is one of our own—just like Yuri—but if he's got those cuffs on, we can't be sure Rhys isn't whispering into his ear right this moment."

"About that…" Seung-gil sighed. "Yuuri said Yuri's damaged his ears. He can't hear anything. Chris, he wants you on healing."

"Let me guess—he said I'm better even though it's a self-deprecating lie?" Chris grinned.

"As usual." Seung-gil rolled his eyes. "Let's go before he gets impatient and does something reckless."

The three of them nodded and followed Seung-gil out of the house, rejoining Yuuri—who was sitting on the grass and brushing through Otabek's fur. Yuuri, who spoke soft reassurances to the cù sidhe in his arms.

«It's alright… You'll be free of him soon.» Yuuri pressed his forehead against Otabek's, combing his fur. «It's time for you to come home, Otabek.»

"Yuuri," Phichit gasped, all by scrambling over to Yuuri's and Otabek's side. He settled next to them, reaching out and touching the silver embedded in Otabek's ears. "Oh—Seung-gil wasn't kidding. This is bad. Otabear's got shitty luck, doesn't he?"

Yuuri nodded. He huffed and finally let go of Otabek. He touched the silver cuffs before flinching back with a deep set frown. He shook his head and touched the tiger's eye. «Take us to him, Otabek.»

Otabek seemed to understand Yuuri this time, and nodded. He got to his feet and turned away from the group, taking off down the road. Yuuri blinked and took off after him—the others watched as he made chase, his body shimmering gold and shrinking into the form of a black cat.

" _Really_?" Phichit groaned, running after Yuuri with the air of someone who has dealt with Yuuri's impulses on the regular. "I hate it when he runs off like that. We can't keep up with him like this."

The group of them made an odd sight, chasing after cat that was chasing a bear-sized dog down the town's main street.

* * *

Otabek stopped running only when he crossed the threshold of what looked like an abandoned office building—though with the dirt and grime coating the exterior, it could have passed for a horror movie haunted asylum. Otabek skidded to a halt in the main lobby, turning around to make sure Yuuri and the others had made it with him. His overlarge tail thumped against the floor and swished away dust and debris. Yuuri was next in the building, his feline form stopping just short of running headlong into Otabek. His ears swiveled and he looked up around him. The interior was just as dilapidated as the exterior. Yuuri flattened his ears as he picked his way around the lobby.

"Yuuri?" Viktor's voice caught his attention. He, Chris, Phichit, and Seung-gil had arrived a minute or so after Yuuri and Otabek. "Yuuri, is this the place?"

"If Otabek says it is, it is." Yuuri turned his head toward Viktor. "And I can feel him. He's somewhere in this building."

"Are you sure this isn't a trap, _taelea_?" Chris asked. He had his hands on his hips, but his face held nothing but concern for his Feyking. "You can't afford to walk into another tragedy."

"Then we'll just be careful. Yura is my priority right now." Yuuri flicked his tail, but he had relaxed at the Feytongue endearment. He turned back to Otabek. "Take me to him, Otabek. Where is he?"

Otabek's ears twitched. He'd finally regained his hearing and he stared at Yuuri. Yuuri waited, patient but fidgety under Otabek's stare.

«Up the stairs.» Otabek jerked his head in the direction of the stairs and padded off once everyone had caught their breath.

The group followed after him, hesitating at the bottom of the stairs. They were uneven and far too many. Yuuri didn't seem to mind, as his deft feline feet took to walking on what was left of the handrails. Phichit complained, loud and theatrical, when he stubbed his toe on a step that was just a half inch taller than the last. Seung-gil weathered the complaints as if it were the norm, but Chris laughed and teased.

"Phichit, it's just a flight of stairs," he said. "No need to threaten the building with bodily harm. Not sure it could feel anything, anyway."

"Bummer," Phichit grumbled. "Why can't we transform into graceful animals that don't trip on stairs?"

"Because you studied cards and stars instead of shapeshifting," Seung-gil said with a long suffering sigh.

"…Right."

Yuuri and Viktor didn't join this conversation. Viktor's face was set in grim concentration. Chris had suggested this might be a trap—for Yuuri? But as charmed as Viktor was, Yura was on the forefront of his mind. Sure, he may not have actually _raised_ the kid, but they were still family in all the ways that mattered. At the top of the stairs, Otabek stopped. He shook his head rapidly and started swiping at his ears, tail lashing against the floor. The silver jewelry seemed to glow, and Otabek's ears seemed to burn. The two witches looked at each other with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

"Whatever was protecting him from Rhys's voice in his ears has worn off," Yuuri said. If cats could frown, Yuuri certainly was. He dropped from the handrail and landed in front of Otabek. «Can you fight him?»

Otabek jerked his head. He snapped his jaw at Yuuri, but Yuuri didn't flinch, even when the others startled and stepped forward.

«Hurts.» Otabek growled. He staggered away from Yuuri and dragged himself down the hall—he had enough fight left in him to get them to Yuri before he'd be back to following orders that didn't come from his Feyking. His tail dragged against the floor, collecting dust and dirt. He didn't notice.

«I know, Beka,» Yuuri said, walking in line with Otabek. He pressed his shoulder into Otabek's leg in a comforting gesture. «He likes to use pain to control us, if and whenever he can.»

«Here,» Otabek said, stopping in front of a door. Its little glass window had shattered to pieces.

«Thank you.» Yuuri turned to the others. "Yura's behind this door. I want Otabek to go first."

"What?" Viktor balked. "Why? He's the dog that I saw that started this whole mess!"

"Viktor," Phichit said, frowning at him as he opened the door. "Whatever Otabear may or may not have done, he's not responsible for it. You see those cuffs on his ears?"

"I—yes." Viktor chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"They were once on Yuuri," Chris said. "They're imbued with magic and iron. They burn Feyfolk on contact and, in this case, the maker can use them to make the Fey wearing them do almost anything he wants."

"Oh." Viktor tilted his head, thoughtful. "That's why you have that sign up in the foyer."

"Exactly," Phichit said. "If you had any iron on you, Yuuri would have _freaked_."

"Isn't that a little… Extreme?" Yuuri rubbed his face with a paw. "Panicked, maybe, but…"

"We love you, Yuuri, but extreme is what you are." Phichit snorted.

" _Anyway_." Yuuri flicked his tail.

Otabek stepped into the room, barking. A figure lying against the wall jolted at the sudden sound—Yuri opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing his face.

«Hey, mutt.» Yuri scowled at Otabek. «What took you so long, asshole?»

Viktor surged forward, but Chris and Seung-gil caught his arms. Phichit stood in front of him. Yuuri paid them no mind. Otabek trotted over to Yuri and nudged his cheek, causing Yuri to snort and push at Otabek's furry face. Otabek didn't budge, he just sat next to Yuri and thumped his tail. His ears continued to burn from the magic ear cuffs. Yuri frowned and touched them, wincing but not flinching back.

"Yura, I thought you were a cat person," Viktor said, grinning.

" _Viktor_." Yuuri coughed. Viktor didn't even look ashamed.

"Now, this is adorable." Phichit grinned. "Baby Yuri making friends. "And touching iron for him? Reckless love."

"Oh, shut the _fuck_ up, hamster freak!" Yuri snarled. " _exeqel_ [5]!"

Phichit gasped, feigning offense. " _Yuri_! How could you? We _raised_ you!"

"Fuck. Off." Yuri scowled. "And you didn't. Katsuki did."

«Hard to find him,» Otabek said. «Too many other smells besides the Feyking's. Strange ones.»

At this, Otabek tilted his head toward Viktor. Viktor blinked.

"Did he just say something about me?"

"Yeah," Yuri said, smirking at Viktor. "He said you stink."

«Yuri,» Yuuri said.

«Ugh. You're such a mom.» Yuri ruffled Otabek's fur. He started to take his tiger's eye pendant back. It glowed and Otabek buckled, whimpering.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, looking between Yuri and Otabek. He padded over to them, paws leaving prints in the dirt and dust. Sitting in front of them, he stared at them. His shadowed fluxed and shimmered. «Yura. Leave it on him for now.»

«What's going on, Katsuki?» Yuri narrowed his eyes. «The fuck is happening to him?»

«The tiger's eye I gave you is holding back the iron, I think,» Yuuri said. «Or perhaps it's responding to your bond with him.»

«So it stays on him, he'll be able to break free of that asshole?» Yuri asked, scowling.

«Not… Necessarily.» Yuuri sighed. «You see how the shackles are clearly attached to his ears.»

«They hurt,» Otabek said. «They burn and the whispering is coming back. Won't be able to fight much longer.»

«I am sorry, Otabek,» Yuuri said, placing a paw on Otabek's leg. «You were never meant to get involved. We'll get those off of you soon.»

"What are they talking about?" Viktor asked.

"They're talking about Baby Yuri's pendant and getting the shackles off of Otabear's ears," Phichit said. "And Yuuri is apologizing to Otabear for getting him involved, which is bullshit. Yuuri doesn't have to apologize for anything. We follow him because we want to—because we _love_ him. He's our friend."

"Sorry." The apology sounded more like a meow to them than Yuuri actually speaking. "Otabek is having some trouble with the common language right now. He can understand, but can't speak it."

"Why not?" Seung-gil frowned. All of Yuuri's Court were fluent in the common tongue.

«So I can't ask for help» Otabek flopped down on the floor, huffing in frustration. «But Yuri—»

Seung-gil nodded, understanding.

"Bastard." Yuri grumbled, flicking pieces of debris away from him. "I'll gut him."

"Not if I get to him first," Phichit said.

"No planets, _aepaeli_." Seung-gil sighed, rubbing a hand against his face.

"Not even a little one?"

" _No_."

Otabek snorted, huffing out a half-bark and thumping his tail on the floor. «Some things never change.»

Yuri sat up straighter, eyebrows shooting up. «Are you starting to remember things?»

"What?" Yuuri hissed. "Did Rhys take his memory?"

"I don't think so?" Yuri shrugged. "I thought it might have to do with the jewelry."

"That's always a possibility…" Chris rubbed his stubble, thoughtful. "Yuuri, you had those things on for over a month. You started to get a little fuzzy in the head after the two week mark. It might be accelerated, though."

"Accelerated? How?" Yuri looked up at Chris with a scowl marring his usually pretty face.

"Yuuri has a lot more magical power than Otabek does," Chris said. "More than we all do, I think. There's a reason he's our Feyking. And the cuffs weren't grafted onto him like this. We were able to get them off before lasting damage was done."

"Lasting damage?" Phichit hissed. "He's been traumatized these last five hundred years, Chris. You don't call that lasting damage?"

"Phichit, it's fine," Yuuri sighed. "He meant physical. No iron burns, no permanent memory loss."

"But—"

"I'll get over it, eventually." Yuuri shook his head. He sat statue still with his tail curled around his paws. «Beka, we're going to get those things off of you. You'll be free soon.»

«Yuuri…. Think about this,» Seung-gil said. «You only have two left.»

"What's happening?" Viktor asked, chewing on his thumbnail.

"We're going to kill him," Chris said. He looked at Viktor. "And then Yuuri's going to share his life to bring him back."

"But isn't that dangerous?" Viktor hedged. His thumbnail was turning ragged with the gnawing.

"It can be," Chris admitted.

In front of them, Phichit, Seung-gil, and Yuri all prepared to remove the ear cuffs from Otabek. Yuuri watched, waiting for his turn. He couldn't help in his current form anyway—a large house cat with no thumbs. And changing forms back and forth would only exhaust him.

"For _who_ , Chris?" Viktor's voice rose with a worried edge. "What will happen to Yuuri?"

"Yuuri will be _fine_ , darling," Chris said. "He's brought everyone in this room back, except you. And hope he doesn't have to. Otabek is going to be his eighth."

"Yuuri!" Viktor turned to the black cat.

"Yes, Viktor?" Yuuri didn't look over his shoulder. He waited with intense focus.

"What are you doing? It's dangerous—he kidnapped Yura. He set a death curse on me! What if he hurts you, too?"

"How _dare_ you?" Yuuri's focus broke and he turned to Viktor. "Otabek is one of _mine_. The things he's done are not his responsibility. He had no choice in the matter. Have you ever been forced to do something you didn't want to do? Have you felt the pain of having no choice at all?"

Viktor took a startled step back. Sure, it had only been a week or so, but—Yuuri had never raised his voice like that to him. Certainly hadn't lashed out like Viktor had done something wrong. Viktor chewed on the inside of his cheek, looking at Yuuri like he didn't recognize him. Beside him, Chris sighed.

"Come, Viktor," Chris said, looping an arm over Viktor's shoulders and leading him out of the room. "Let's have a talk."

"But I—"

"Viktor."

Viktor bit his lip. His protest died on his tongue. He followed Chris out, rubbing at his arm. It was probably for the best, after all—his presence was only aggravating Yuuri. But he _worried_. He cared about Yuuri so much. He couldn't say why, but he just did. Some things you couldn't explain, and this magnetism he felt toward the cait sidhe was just one of those things.

"Yuri, you come, too," Chris beckoned once he reached the door.

"Why?"

"Because they'll need space," Chris said. "And I want you to help explain to Viktor why Yuuri's so adamant about this."

"Ugh, fine," Yuri grumbled. "I still think it's something the cat should tell him, but whatever."

The three of them left, letting the door swing shut behind them.

* * *

"Breaking your thrall is going to be painful, Otabear," Phichit said, reaching out and smoothing down the cù sidhe's fur and kissing the top of his head. "It's _really_ going to hurt."

«It's going to kill me,» Otabek said. «Of course it's going to hurt. Yura's death hurt. Your deaths hurt.»

Phichit and Seung-gil paused to look at each other. Phichit chewed on his lip, unsure of how to respond to that. Otabek wasn't wrong—each of them had died painfully. And slowly.

«Yes,» Yuuri said. He stepped closer to Otabek, lifting a paw to his nose. «But you won't stay that way, I promise.»

«I'd rather die than have him keep whispering orders in my ears,» Otabek growled. «I won't have a hand in killing our king.»

«Are you sure you're going to go through with this, Yuuri?» Seung-gil asked. «I told you you're only going to have one life left to give after this. You know the consequences.»

«It's fine.» Yuuri flicked his tail. «Start taking them off.»

Seung-gil sighed and nodded to Phichit. Phichit nodded back and they knelt on either side of Otabek and began digging the ear cuffs off of Otabek's ears. For his part, Otabek sat as still as possible with his canine jaw set in a grimace. He refused to whine or whimper—he had done enough of that with the ear cuffs _on_.

One ear cuff fell to the ground, ripping a snarl from Otabek's throat. It hurt more than he expected it to, but he _was_ going to die. Seung-gil's face was set in a scowl. He'd cut his finger tips on the silver, trying to pull it off. The nick stung like salt in a paper cut. Kneeling down, Seung-gil picked up the cuff that fell. Phichit continued to work steadily on Otabek's other side, taking as much care as he could.

«I'm trying to be gentle,» Phichit said.

«Do what you need to,» Otabek replied.

Phichit nodded. In the distraction, his fingers, slick with blood, slipped against the metal and he hissed, jerking back. He stuck his finger in his mouth with a exaggerated pout.

«Are you okay, Phichit?» Seung-gil asked, turning his attention to his husband.

«I broke a nail,» Phichit whined.

«Phichit…» Yuuri sighed, rolling his eyes. If cats could smile, he would. But he couldn't make the same expressions a human body could—and wouldn't be able to for the next several hours. They still had work to do. «Can you finish it?»

«Yeah, yeah - I got it.»

Phichit bit the rest of his nail off and went back to pulling the silver off Otabek's ear. The seconds dragged on. Otabek wobbled, unsteady despite sitting down. His breathing quickened and his eyes clouded over. A whimper escaped, despite Otabek's struggle to not make a sound.

«It's okay, Beka,» Yuuri assured him, using his best soothing voice. He was never sure if it worked or not, but he hoped. This was hard on all of them. «You'll be safe soon.»

The second cuff relinquished its hold on Otabek's ear. It clattered to the floor, skittering across until it reached Seung-gil's feet. Otabek's eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor, lifeless. Silence fell over them. Phichit wore an unusually grim expression. He turned to Seung-gil.

"Babe."

"I know," Seung-gil said, nodding. He handed Phichit both of the ear cuffs. "I'll stand here with them. I am the necromancer, after all…"

The last was said with a roll of the eyes, but it didn't change his demeanor. Phichit nodded as he took the cuffs from Seung-gil. He pressed a kiss to Seung-gil's cheek and left the room. Chris knew how to destroy the cuffs.

And he wanted to know what Chris was telling Viktor to keep him from interrupting Yuuri's work.

* * *

Yuuri dropped onto his belly and inched his way to Otabek's canine head. He pressed his feline nose against Otabek's, which had become worryingly dry. Inhaling deeply, Yuuri closed his eyes while his tail curled around his paws. If he didn't look so intensely focused, he might have looked like a contented kitty loaf. But this loaf had a job to do. Yuuri held his breath for several seconds before the white markings on his body began to glow and his shadow expanded along the floor under him dark and empty as the void.. Then, he exhaled a silver mist into Otabek's open mouth.

The dog twitched. His legs spasmed and his head jerked. Yuuri didn't move. He didn't breathe. Not until the last of the silver mist was gone. Then, Otabek's eyes shot open. He scrabbled to his paws and shook himself off, looking around as if he didn't quite know where he was. All his fur stood on end and his legs trembled under the effort of remaining standing.

«Easy, Beka,» Yuuri said, a soothing purr to his voice as if he were a parent calming a panicked child. He sat back on his hind legs and licked his paw, washing his face. He switched out of the Feytongue, wanting to jump start Otabek's memory. "How are you feeling? Try and use the common language if you can."

«I…» Otabek shook his head. He managed to steady himself. Silence followed his truncated attempt at speech.

"It's okay. Take your time." Yuuri stood up.

"Don't do it, Yuuri. You haven't had the time to rest and recuperate," Seung-gil said while he eyed Yuuri's movements with a critical eye.

Yuuri ignored him and shifted his form, slow and stuttering. Once he was fully human again, he staggered. Unsteady on his feet after using all of his energy, his knees buckled under him.

"Yuuri!" Otabek's change was immediate—he lost his canine form and took on a human one mid-lunge, catching Yuuri before he could hit the floor.

"I told you to take your time," Yuuri said with a winded laugh. "I'm glad you're okay. How's your memory?"

"Later." Otabek grunted, hoisting Yuuri up into his arms and walking out the door.

All attention shifted to Otabek and Yuuri the moment they stepped out into the grimy hallway. Silence fell over the waiting party as they watched the two Fey. Otabek avoided eye contact with everyone. His body braced for an impact that never came. When he chanced a look, Chris had firm grips on Viktor's and Yuri's shoulders. Phichit and Seung-gil breathed out together, with Phichit going slack against his husband.

"Oh, thank the Morrigan," Phichit said, though the words came out in a wispy sigh. "You're both alright."

Otabek nodded. Yuuri just gave everyone a tired smile.

"I probably shouldn't have changed forms so quickly after using a life…" Yuuri huffed. "Beka, you can put me own now. My legs are fine."

Uncertainty warred on Otabek's face as he struggled between obeying his Feyking and keeping him from acquainting his face with the floor. Eventually, Otabek sighed and set Yuuri on his feet. He didn't look at all pleased about it, but he held his tongue. Yuuri gave him a reassuring smile, patting him on the shoulder.

"I'm _fine_ , Otabek," Yuuri said. "Just tired, that's all."

Unfortunately, Yuuri's body hadn't caught up with his brain in terms of being 'fine'. When he let go of Otabek's shoulder and stepped forward to assure the rest of his friends that he really was okay, his legs turned back into jelly. He buckled and pitched forward. The group collectively shot forward to catch him, but Viktor was the quickest. He caught Yuuri in his arms and held him close, though he let Yuuri have his feet.

"Mm'guess that took more out of me than I thought…" Yuuri grumbled. "It gets more exhausting the fewer lives I have left."

"You only have one left," Seung-gil said, frowning like a disappointed parent.

"He's right," Phichit added. "If you use the last one, you know what will happen. Exhaustion will be the least of your worries."

"I know, I _know_." Yuuri huffed. He leaned his weight against Viktor as he shuffled his legs to get feeling back in them. "It'll be fine. It won't come to that."

"Yuuri…" Chris rubbed his face, groaning. "Confidence is attractive, but we all know making an absolute statement like that is just asking for trouble."

"Why are we just standing around like a bunch of losers?" Yuri griped. "Let's get out of here and go home already. This place gives me the fucking creeps."

"Go on ahead," Yuuri said, waving his hand with a gentle smile. "We'll be along."

The group hesitated. Everyone looked at each other, waiting for one of them to speak up and say it was a bad idea. It _was_ a bad idea—Yuuri wasn't at his strongest and Viktor was just a human. If something happened after they'd left, it'd be their fault. Phichit was the one to break the tension.

"Alright," he said. "We'll go ahead, but only because I want to make sure there's food and some energizing tea waiting for you at home. And because we need to clean out some rooms for Baby Yuri and Otabek to stay in."

"I'm not a fucking baby!"

"What about Viktor? Are you just going to send him home while he's been marked for death?" Otabek asked. No one questioned his knowledge of Viktor. He had been the one to put the mark on him, and he had been somewhat privy to what Rhys had planned. He added, "I can't unmake a mark like that. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Otabear," Phichit hummed, patting him gently. "It's okay. No one expected Rhys to come back after so long."

"Viktor can stay in my room," Yuuri said. When he got a myriad of amused and suggestive looks—minus Otabek's confusion—he scowled. "A bunch of children, all of you. I'm exhausted, alright? I probably won't be leaving the couch for awhile. It makes no sense to let a perfectly functional room go to waste for a guest."

"Alright, alright!" Phichit laughed. He nudged Seung-gil and Chris along. "Tea, food, and a blanket nest on the couch will be waiting for you, Yuuri. Off we go. Come along, Otabear, Baby Yuri."

"I am _not_ a fucking _baby_!" Yuri shrieked, chasing after Phichit, who had broken into a run.

Seung-gil sighed and shook his head. He followed after at a leisurely pace, beckoning for Chris and Otabek to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 **aepaeli** /aɪ.paɪ.’liː/ - _sweetheart_ [return to text]
> 
> 4 **oitreir** /ɔɪ.’trɛər/ - _bullshit_ [return to text]
> 
> 5 **exeqel** /’ɛʃ.ɛk.ɛl/ - _asshole_ [return to text]


	4. tacere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **tacere** | _to silence_

"What did you want me alone for?" Viktor asked, stopping short of one step down the hall.

"I want to know what Chris told you," Yuuri said. He held firm to Viktor's sleeve, too tired to be aware of his claws snagging. "Before I try to explain myself."

"Alright…" Viktor furrowed his brows. "Are we going to stay here and talk while waiting for the ceiling to cave in?"

"The structure isn't _that_ unsound." But Yuuri shook his head. He glanced up at Viktor. "…My legs still feel like jelly. Walking… Is going to take forever"

"Then I'll carry you!" Viktor really couldn't help the smile that lit up his face.

Yuuri gave Viktor a disapproving look, but didn't respond. He knew he'd either have to hobble or be carried. Neither one looked good for his dignity. Viktor, however, looked far too delighted in the aspect of carrying him that uneasiness tugged at Yuuri's gut. Nothing came out of his mouth, though. He didn't need to reprimand Viktor all the time. But— he yelped. Viktor had moved to scoop Yuuri up, arms around shoulders and under the knees. The embrace was startling and Yuuri hadn't been prepared for the sudden feeling of weightlessness. He clutched to Viktor's arm. His claws bit through fabric and pricked at soft skin. Viktor winced.

"Not like that," Yuuri said, frowning. "Just… Turn around and kneel."

Viktor opened his mouth and closed it again several times. Confusion crossed his face before he realized what Yuuri was asking him to do. His cheeks flushed, but he did as Yuuri asked him—he would always do what Yuuri asked him (even if an argument preceded the request…). Once Yuuri hopped onto his back, Viktor looped his arms under Yuuri's thighs, adjusting as needed for a more secure hold. Yuuri said nothing. He simply let his arms rest across Viktor's shoulders and hook in front of his chest. Warmth and giddiness spread through Viktor's body and it took all his willpower not to grin. Yuuri was _holding_ him.

* * *

"So…" Viktor ventured, swallowing the nerves in his throat.

"Chris said he wanted to tell you why?" Yuuri closed his eyes as he rested against Viktor's back. "Did he?"

"Sort of?" Viktor adjusted his hold, pushing the door open. He squinted as the light hit his face dead on. "I think I got the gist of the basics, at least. Something about the cù sidhe—Otabek, sorry—being part of your… Court? Chris said that you're obsessively protective of the people under you? I gather you're some kind of leader?"

"Ah." Yuuri hummed. "Yes. I didn't want to yell at you, but… Everyone in the room has been with me for centuries. They all have a piece of me, literally. Yura was the third. Seung-gil and Phichit took my six and seventh lives. They died together, you know. They don't like to talk about it. Yura doesn't like to talk about his, either. Chris was actually the second. And… Never mind. I'll get to that later. Otabek was the eighth. I only have one life left to give, so I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Who was the first…?" Viktor got the feeling that Yuuri didn't particularly enjoy the subject. Actually, it rather felt like Yuuri _avoided_ the subject altogether.

"Uh, Celestino, actually," Yuuri said. "It's all very long and complicated."

"Okay. Then will using your last life kill you?" Viktor chewed on his lip. He didn't like where this was going.

"Kill me?" Yuuri parroted. "No, nothing like that. But won't be able to retake my human form. As much as I don't like my responsibility, I can't very well be an effective Feyking if I can't use both of my forms. Especially if I have to deal with humans. Being _uruit_ [6] is… Dangerous. If we stay in one single form for too long, we start to lose aspects of our other form. This only applies to those of us that have more than one form. Me, for example. And our Beka. It wasn't just the ear cuffs that had his memories in a mess.

"Between that and being _uruit…_ Otabek wasn't having a good time of it," Yuuri explained.

"So… _uruit_ —did I say that right?" When Yuuri nodded that Viktor had pronounced it correctly, he continued, " _Uruit_. That means… That you're stuck? As whatever form?"

"Mmn." Yuuri confirmed. "I think you might pick up Feytongue without too much trouble… Anyway, I can tell you Yura's story now. He won't talk about it, not with everything else that’s going on. I wasn't able to get to him in time but I heard everything. You humans can be remarkably loud… Chris might want to tell you his on his own. I won't tell you Phichit's and Seung-gil's without their permission, and not without them present. I… Think they got the worst of it."

"What happened to Yura?" Viktor asked. He'd looked after the—he supposed eternal, now—teenager for years. You don't look after someone that long and not feel some degree of protectiveness.

"Keep in mind this was hundreds of years ago, Viktor," Yuuri said. " _Hundreds_. Five at the minimum, but when you get to be six-seven hundred years old, time tends to get fuzzy. It was back in the time when there weren't really and giant human cities; just sparsely scattered villages across the plains where my forest ended.

"Yura's mother was a ban sidhe, one of the oldest at the time, and she was one of my trusted advisors. But his father was a human—one of the rare ones that neither hated us nor feared us. After Yura's mother died—she wouldn't let me use one of my lives on her, as much as I wanted to—Yura thought he could go looking for his father. He left the protection of our borders and ventured into one of the nearby villages, searching. I didn't think anything of it. Yura wandered off all the time, and he was never gone longer than a day. He would always, _always_ be back by nightfall. But this time he was late, so I started to worry. I helped raise him. He was supposed to be named successor of my Court. There… Isn't much of a Court now. Just me and the others you met. And… Celestino, too, technically…

"Anyway, Yura's like a son to me, so when he didn't show by nightfall, I started to panic. I went looking for him. When I left the forest and stepped out onto the plains, I heard a mob of humans yelling, and I could smell fire. And pain. I couldn't get close or they'd see me, and I make it a habit not to provoke humans. I circled them, waiting for an opening and _aching_ because Yura was clearly in pain. Otabek followed me, of course. I wasn't surprised. He takes his job as guard very seriously. So Otabek saw what was happening and managed to chase off the mob. I shouldn't have been as pleased as I was to hear them scream in terror. A cù sidhe is nothing to laugh about, especially one as large as our Otabek. And he'd always been fond of Yura.

"By the time I was able to get to Yura, he was cooling. Blood was drying on the grass and he was burned in several places—they used a torch on him. I was furious, but no amount of revenge would fix the mess. It would only create more tension between us and the humans. Once I'd managed to calm down, I settled in to give him one of my lives. He was in so much pain, Viktor, I couldn't stand it. But I'd revived him, and he was back to his snarky self. All's well that ends well.

"We had a long talk after that, about boundaries and why it's not safe to be out amongst the humans alone." Yuuri sighed heavily, pressing his forehead into Viktor's shoulder. His breath was uneven and shuddery. "They murdered him, Viktor. They chased him off, calling him _Froublood_ and then they _murdered_ him."

Viktor felt the back of his shirt grow damp. He sighed and shook his head. Yuuri was crying, and that just wouldn't do. Viktor bounced Yuuri on his back, keeping a firm hold around his legs. He thought he felt Yuuri finally relaxing "Hey, Yura's okay now. He's alive, right? But—uhm. What—what is a 'Froublood'…?"

Yuuri sucked in a breath, tensing. Viktor immediately regretted uttering the word, even if he had no idea what it meant. He slowed his walking to give Yuuri a chance to collect himself. Yuuri stayed silent for several minutes before he let out a shuddering sigh.

"Yuuri…?"

"I'm going to tell you what it means, Viktor," Yuuri said, "but if I ever hear you utter that word again, I'll have to seriously consider the decision to let you into our world."

"I—" Viktor swallowed. "Okay. If it's that bad, okay."

"It's a slur," Yuuri explained. " _…Froufrou_ for pure Fey—you don't hear that one as often, since people used to be terrified of us. But. The other one. It's a derogatory word used against people like Yura. Half Fey, half human. The poor ones that had no choice in their blood heritage. We call them Feyborn. Even if their mothers were human, they were born from us."

"I've heard the Fey look after their own…" Viktor mused.

"Mmn." Yuuri nodded against Viktor's shoulder. "We're almost there, _taelea_."

"…You've called me that before," Viktor said. "What does it mean?"

"Don't tell Yura I told you. Don't treat him any differently. He's still Yura."

* * *

"There you are!" Phichit exclaimed, jumping to his feet from the porch swing. He turned to the front door, opening it and yelling inside, " _Ylae_! They're back! Is the tea still hot? Chris! Did you make up the couch like he likes?"

"Wow." Viktor blinked at Phichit's rapid fire speech.

"I think you ought to switch to decaf, _mon cher_ ," Chris said, laughing. "The couch is already made up. It doesn't really look like a couch anymore. Just a… Box of cushions and blankets."

"That's exactly how it's supposed to be, Chris!" Phichit huffed out a whine. He stopped and grinned when he heard Yuuri laughing, muffled though it was against Viktor's shoulder. "Yuuri! My favorite person!"

" _Aepaeli_!"

"Oh. Right. Favorite Fey!" Phichit laughed, but he looked sheepish while doing it. "Anyway! Come on, get inside! The temperature's dropping."

Viktor laughed as Yuuri smiled into his skin. "You really are something else, Phichit. Yuuri, are you ready to try walking again?"

"No." Yuuri grumbled. " _Taelea_ , if you drop me, I'll scratch you into ribbons."

"Shouldn't you have said that when we _first_ started walking?" Viktor asked, eyebrows arched. He adjusted his hold on Yuuri and carried him up the porch steps and into the house proper. He glanced around as he set Yuuri on the couch. "Where are Yura and Otabek?"

Yuuri grumbled and nestled himself completely into the blankets and pillows. Comfort was easy to come by in the couch nest, and Yuuri had no intention of sharing it. He ignored the amused looks that came his way. He was _tired_. Thankfully, no one bothered him. He was content to listen to the muffled conversation around him.

"They're up in the attic," Chris said. "Otabek was _exhausted_ by the time we got back. We set him up to rest and Yuri won't leave his side. It's quite cute, actually."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Yuuri mumbled from under a stack of pillows. The fact that he didn't dislodge any was something of a small miracle.

Viktor couldn't help the small giggle-snort. Yuuri must be as tired as Otabek if he risked suffocation _and_ still continued to hold a conversation with them. The couch did look awfully inviting, though… Viktor carefully rearranged some of the pillows and blankets so he could sit down. In doing so, he uncovered Yuuri's head, who gave him such a withering expression that Viktor almost regretted disturbing the couch nest. Almost. With Yuuri's head suddenly visible, Viktor couldn't stop his hand from reaching out and threading through inky black hair. It was no small satisfaction when Yuuri's eyes drooped and he _purred_.

"You're lucky I'm tired," Yuuri muttered.

"Sure, _kotyenok_." Viktor laughed. "Oh, when did we start with the pet names?" Phichit asked as Chris perked up. "Yuuri, when did you start calling him _taelea_?"

"What does it mean?" Viktor asked with a tiny pout.

" _Mon dieu_ , Yuuri," Chris feigned a scandalized gasp. "Vik, my dear friend, _taelea_ is a Fey word—it's used as an affectionate term for someone who you consider dear but not romantically intimate."

"Oh! Like when you use _mon cher_?"

"Essentially, yes."

"And I thought Yuuri couldn't get any cuter," Phichit sighed from across the room.

"Okay… So if _taelea_ is an endearment like _mon cher_ is to Chris…" Viktor mused, tapping his chin with the hand that wasn't in Yuuri's hair. "What does _aepaeli_ mean? Seung-gil called you that."

"Closest equivalent for you would be 'sweetheart'." Phichit looked entirely too proud of this. "I love it. Even when he's scolding me."

"…You're a weird one." Viktor nodded, as if he'd made a satisfactory scientific observation.

"So, _taelea_ ," Phichit grinned—far too giddy to be innocent. It lasted for a moment before Phichit shook his head and sighed. "I suppose it's time to let you in?"

"He knows about Otabek and Yura," Yuuri said, shuffling in his nest and sitting up. He hugged a pillow as a blanket fell across his shoulders. The movement knocked Viktor's hand from his hair. "I'm all that's left, along with you three. I figured… You'd rather tell your own stories."

"Thank you for the courtesy, Yuuri." Seung-gil finally exited the kitchen with a tray laden with tea and fruit.

While Yuri and Otabek were sleeping in the attic bedroom, the other five settled down in the living room. Yuuri and Viktor were the only residents on the couch nest, as Yuuri wasn't keen on sharing. When asked why Viktor was allowed on the couch, Yuuri simply _harrumphed_ and said he was too tired and Viktor was too heavy to shove off. Once settled around each other, their stories began.

* * *

After he set the tray on the table, Seung-gil sat next to Phichit. He let Phichit curl into his side for comfort. They both knew what was to come. After all, Yuuri had given them the courtesy of a choice. Seung-gil took a steadying breath. For all his calm stoicism, these memories were painful. Some nights he woke in the middle of nightmares; they all did. They all spent nights reliving their deaths. Seung-gil never brought it up, as sometimes their death nightmares were physically painful. The fewer reminders, the better. Seung-gil never wanted to experience burning to death again, and he would die before he let Phichit go through that experience again. But they could talk about it. And with recent events with Rhys, this time might be the last. Dealing with Rhys would be cathartic. For each and every one of them. Phichit nudged Seung-gil, startling him.

" _Aepaeli_." Seung-gil offered a small smile. "Sorry. Do you want to tell the story, or should I?"

"We both can," Phichit said. "I won't force you to relive it alone. It was awful."

"Awful is a bit of an understatement," Seung-gil said, placing a mug from the tray in Phichit's hands. Phichit took it with a smile and a soft kiss.

"Okay." Phichit hummed. He sipped from the mug. "Oh! Hot chocolate!"

"Phichit…" Seung-gil ran his fingers through Phichit's hair. "Should I start?"

"No, no." Phichit shook his head. "I've got it."

Seung-gil nodded. Slipping an arm around Phichit, he pulled his husband into his lap. Phichit settled comfortably. He drank more of his chocolate, licking away the chocolate mustache the mug left behind. Everyone in the room waited on him. He paid them no mind at all. Phichit breathed.

"It was a long time ago, so details are fuzzy," Phichit began. "But I'll never forget the pain. We all lived in a relatively safe village. Er—you know what I mean. Yuuri and the Court had the forest. Seung-gil and I had our own little house between the forest and the village. We never bothered anyone, and they never bothered us. Some of the townspeople even came to us for help. Things like the most auspicious days for a wedding or a someone seeking guidance from a dead relative. Simple things. Easy."

"You could even say it was idyllic," Seung-gil said. "Though people were always wary of me. I did deal with the dead."

"Mhm." Phichit nodded. "We'd been friends with the Fey, too. By the Morrigan, it's been so long I don't remember how we got involved with Yuuri and his Court. Anyway, we were friends. Life was good. And then Yuri unintentionally stirred things up. We didn't think anything of it, y'know. I didn't even see him, though he had to have passed our house."

Phichit sighed and drank more of his hot chocolate. He looked up at Seung-gil, nudging him gently.

"It wasn't long after that that fewer and fewer people came to see us," Seung-gil said. "The ones that did were terrified of us. Yuuri checked in from time to time to make sure we were doing okay, necessity-wise. Of course, he never came to visit as a human. Always a cat. Regardless of Yuuri's personal feelings about his appearance, the Fey did stand out for their unnatural beauty. He'd just draw attention to himself and us if he came out of the forest looking like he does and loitering around a witch's hut. We didn't think anything of it, like Phichit said. It was normal. Business as usual. But then again, we also had no idea about Rhys at the time. Yuuri has always been tight lipped about his personal life."

Yuuri sighed, but he didn't interrupt them. He leaned against Viktor, wondering how difficult things would have been if he'd been more open with his friends. Viktor wrapped an arm around Yuuri and drew him in closely, but not too close. Always careful of Yuuri's personal space.

"Oh, don't look so sad, Yuuri," Phichit said. "Here, take some hot chocolate. It's really good—Seung-gil made it! You know he makes the best hot chocolate."

"Ah—sorry." Yuuri took a mug, trying to smile. It felt awkward at best, insincere at worst. "I didn't mean to interrupt. It's your story."

"You didn't." Phichit managed a grin, even though it lacked its usual luster. "Where were we?"

"Black cats, witches' huts, and Rhys," Viktor said as he rubbed soothing lines over Yuuri's shoulder.

"Ah, yeah." Phichit huffed. "This was all after the incident with Baby Yuri."

"Yuuri and Rhys had their first incident after the mob went for Yuri," Seung-gil said. "We wouldn't think Rhys had anything to do with it until later, when things started to get worse. And then Yuuri—"

"Yuuri and Rhys had their first argument," Phichit said. "I thought it was just trouble in paradise. _Damn_ , I wish I'd seen it sooner. And I practice divination! Anyway. Yuuri had his argument with Rhys and Seung-gil and I sent a care package. You know, a _we're sorry your boyfriend's a twat_ kind of thing."

"That's a heavy modernization of what happened," Seung-gil said with a roll of his eyes. "We were waiting for an update from Yuuri and the others that night. It was hot as hell, so staying indoors wasn't an option. And, Phichit was doing one of his star readings. In hindsight, it seems like such a glaring omen."

"An extremely _vague_ death omen," Phichit said, scoffing. "How would we have ever picked up on that?"

"Hush, _aepaeli_." Seung-gil pressed a kiss to Phichit's temple. "We can't change history, so let's move on."

"We wouldn't—or shouldn't—even if we could," Yuuri said, quiet and contemplative.

"Right." Seung-gil agreed easily. "Back to that night—it was hot, and it was a blood moon. The forest wasn't fond of humans, so we couldn't just wander in to check on Yuuri. We had to wait. And then we heard the commotion."

"Shouting and heavy marching," Phichit said. He stretched his legs out while leaning over and placing his empty mug on the table. "You'd think they sent a military detachment with all the noise they were making. It was all very unnerving. And then—"

"Phichit opened his mouth." Seung-gil's lips quirked. "Not that it would have made any difference. They rounded us up, tied us up on a pile of hay and a pillar and started yelling about burning witches at the stake. We burned for most of the night. I think we suffocated before the burns killed us."

"It was gruesome." Phichit sighed. "The nightmares never _really_ go away. But on the romantic side of things, we died together! Even held hands through the whole thing."

* * *

After Phichit finished his and Seung-gil's tale, Viktor found his breath again. Who could do such a thing…? Viktor knew that people could be cruel, but… To force Phichit and Seung-gil to watch each other burn? That was a level of cruelty he never thought he'd imagine. Yuuri had retreated under his blankets as apologies spilled from his mouth like vomit. That Seung-gil had gone deathly quiet—more so than his usual self. Even Chris looked grim. Viktor swallowed his suffocation and found Yuuri's hand while Phichit wiped at his eyes.

"I'm sorry…" Yuuri mumbled. "I never—"

"Yuuri." Phichit cut his best friend off with a watery smile. "You've spent the last five hundred years apologizing. I think it's time we finally move on. Besides, we're so close to getting closure."

Yuuri nodded. He curled his fingers into Viktor's hand, squeezing tightly. When Viktor winced, Yuuri jerked his hand away as if he'd been electrocuted. Four lines of scratches left tracks on the back of Viktor's hand. Tiny beads of blood bubbled up to the surface of the skin.

"S—sorry!" Yuuri bit into his lip.

"Hey, it's alright," Viktor reassured him. "No harm done, kitten."

"Still… I shouldn't have done that," Yuuri said.

Viktor reached back to take Yuuri's hand again. Yuuri accepted his hand and he placed his other on top of Viktor's, closing his eyes. That same tingling sensation from days ago ran from the back of Viktor's hand and up his arm. His skin shivered pleasantly. The gentle healing relaxed him to the point where he had a dopey grin on his face. The snickering around him didn't even register.

"There." Yuuri brushed his fingers over where he scratches had been, checking his work. Satisfied with the healing, he nodded and began to pull his hands away again, only to have Viktor catch his fingers and lace them together. Yuuri frowned, burrowing his brows together. "Viktor?"

"I'm sorry," Viktor said. "I'm so sorry for everything your friends have been through. But you're all here now, aren't you? You're all here and alive and _thriving_."

"He's right, you know," Chris interrupted them, a grin stretching across his face. "And, for the record, not all of us were outright murdered. Sort of."

"I take it that means you, Chris?" Viktor arched his eyebrows.

"Kelpie." Chris nodded sagely. "In my defense, he seemed genuinely interested in me. It was fun while it lasted, though."

"Interested in _eating_ you," Yuuri said, scowling. "Fishing you out of the lake is something I'd rather not relive. It was _not_ fun. It was the exact opposite of fun. So much _water_. And slimy seaweed. My fur was soggy for _hours_. I smelled like a swamp for days. _Exeqel inaek_ [7]."

"I love you, too, Yuuri," Chris sad with a snicker while Phichit cackled in the background.

"Wow," Phichit wheezed. "You're still really pissed about that, aren't you?"

Viktor couldn't help laughing. He tried to hold it in, but it escaped anyway. Yuuri really was such a cat, especially with his mercurial temper. Claws engaged and Yuuri tried swiping, but Viktor held his hands firm. He remained completely calm, without regard for the possibility of getting scratched again.

After a brief moment of struggle, Yuuri finally relented with an exasperated sigh. Viktor smiled and brought Yuuri's hands up to his lips and kissed his clawed fingertips, one by one. A bright flush burned across Yuuri's cheeks and his eyes widened behind his glasses. Brick by brick, Yuuri felt his walls crumbling. His fortress had become cage, and now Viktor was dismantling it with alarming ease and genuine acceptance. Maybe it was finally time…

"I suppose it's my turn," Yuuri said, taking in a shuddering breath. "You know everyone else's story, so I guess it's time for me to tell mine. To show you exactly who set that curse on you and forced Otabek to mark you for death. And… Why I've been keeping you at arm's length."

"Yuuri…" Viktor rubbed his thumbs along Yuuri's knuckles. "You don't have to if you're not ready."

"If I don't do it now, I'll never be ready."

" _Esultrir_ [8]," Phichit whispered. "We're gonna need more tea."

"I'll get it," Seung-gil said. He'd been so quiet the whole time, Viktor almost forgot he was there. Seung-gil rose from his seat and left the room with the tea kettle.

"Take a deep breath, Viktor," Chris said.

"If you care about Yuuri as much as you seem to…" Phichit chewed on his lip for a moment. "You might just be as pissed off as we are about this."

"Phichit…" Yuuri shook his head. He took a deep breath to steady his flailing heart. Then, he took his hands away from Viktor's. They were starting to get sweaty. His heart wasn't settling at all. Yuuri swallowed and rubbed his palms against his thighs. "My part of the story overlaps with Phichit's and Seung-gil's. Some of with Yura's. I think Chris is the only one that wasn't directly involved with any of it…"

"I was, but not the way the others were," Chris said. He shrugged. "Rhys Bors never tried to make a victim out of me."

"That's not true." Phichit snorted.

"Okay, he _tried_ ," Chris amended.

"Chris was always the one dealing with the aftermath," Yuuri said, sighing. "Always cleaning up the messes. And distracting me from doing things that I need to do."

Chris grinned. He held up his hands, palms out. It only marginally succeeded in placating Yuuri.

* * *

_"Rhys…" Yuuri held his hands over his mouth. His eyes shimmered in the starlight. "They're beautiful. Where did you get them?"_

_"I made them!" Rhys said._

_Yuuri could almost see Rhys's excitement—could almost hear the giddy buzzing of the heart. He smiled and lowered his hands, holding them out to accept the jewelry. Rhys didn't hand them over. Instead, he stepped into Yuuri's space and clipped them gently to Yuuri's ears. He marveled at how the silver caught the moonlight. At how the aquamarine beads seemed to glow in the semi-darkness. As gentle as Rhys was, however, Yuuri still winced when the cold metal made contact with his skin._

_"Ouch," Yuuri hissed. He reached up to touch the cuffs, frowning. "Why do they sting?"_

_"Oh, I'm sorry," Rhys said. "I forgot to tell you… I enchanted them! That way you'll always feel a part of me with you, wherever you are."_

_"Thank you…" Yuuri's cheeks flushed. But he grinned at Rhys and took his hands. Pressing their foreheads together, Yuuri closed his eyes. "I love them."_

 

 

_"What do you mean, you saw Rhys?" Yuuri demanded. He paced across the dais where the Feyking would address his court. The hairs on his neck prickled while a chill ran over his skin, giving him gooseflesh._

_"When the mob attacked," Yuri said. A scowl tugged on his face. "I know it was dangerous to check out the village, but no one should have known who or what I am! I saw him talking to the village mayor and then start gesturing at me. That's when I had the sense to run. I'm telling you, Katsuki! This asshole is dangerous! He doesn't care about you or any of us!"_

_"Yura…" Yuuri pressed his palms against his face, dragging them down. "If this is another one of your conspiracy theories…"_

_"It's not!" Yuri snapped. "I'm just telling you what I saw! Fuck, ask Beka if you don't believe me!"_

_"N-no, I do…" Yuuri sighed. He tugged at the long locks of his hair. "It's just—Go, Yura. Please. I need some time to let this sink in."_

 

 

_"Why is the little one giving me such a scary look?" Rhys asked, threading his fingers through Yuuri's hair and watching the Feyking close his eyes and relax._

_"You didn't send the town after Yura, did you…?" Yuuri asked._

_"That was him?" Rhys sounded genuinely surprised. Yuuri ached to believe him._

_"They almost killed him, Rhys."_

_"I didn't mean for that," Rhys said._

_In order to reassure Yuuri, he ghosted his fingers over one of Yuuri's silver ear cuffs. Yuuri shivered and sighed, his eyelashes fluttering against his skin. The affectionate touch rendered Yuuri a hapless puddle of Fey goo. Yuuri pried his eyes open and looked up at Rhys through ridiculously long lashes._

_"What did you mean, then…?"_

_"I didn't realize it was your kid until after the fact," Rhys explained. He spoke slowly and picked his words carefully, but Yuuri didn't say anything about him not being completely candid. "I just saw a teenager snooping around one of the old houses, that's all. It looked suspicious, so I reported it."_

_"Ah…" Yuuri nodded. "Makes sense… I think. You humans are so weird about your property."_

_"You Fey aren't that much different when it comes to your territory._

_"That's true enough."_

_"I'm glad he's safe," Rhys said. "He's like your son, isn't he?"_

_Yuuri simply nodded. He began drifting off, lulled to sleep by the fingers in his hair and against his ear._

 

 

_"Rhys!" Yuuri's panicked voice rose almost two octaves higher than normal. He shook Rhys's shoulder, harder every time Rhys didn't respond. "Rhys, wake up!"_

_"Nn…ng…"_

_Yuuri collapsed at Rhys's side in relief. He clung to one of his arms, breath hitching. The effort not to cry exhausted him almost as much as giving up one of his lives had._

_"Yuuri…?"_

_"I'm right here," Yuuri said. His breath hitched again, but for an entirely different reason this time. "I'm right here. You're safe and I'm not going anywhere."_

_"What happened?"_

_"You don't remember?" Yuuri bit down on his lip, worrying at it until it bled. "Rhys, I told you not to come here at night without me! If I hadn't—"_

_"Yuuri?" Rhys cracked his eyes open. "What happened?"_

_"You—" Yuuri swallowed his nerves. "You_ died _, Rhys."_

_"I_ what _?" Rhys hissed, turning to Yuuri. He hissed as his body protested against the sudden movement._

_"If I hadn't gotten here in time…" Yuuri licked the blood from his lip before biting down again, as was his anxious habit. "I would have lost you…"_

_"Yuuri!"_

_Yuuri flinched at the sharp edge of Rhys's voice. He shrunk in on himself, waiting for the rebuke he knew would come._

_"You've disrupted the natural order of things! You're not supposed to bring the dead back to life!"_

_"I—"_

_"Monster!" Rhys scrambled away from Yuuri, clenching his jaw against the pain of his haste._

_"But I—"_

_"Stay away!"_

 

 

_Yuuri sat in the clearing he first share with Rhys—the clearing where Rhys gave him the beautiful jewelry. He pressed his back against a tree at the edge, head buried in his knees, arms locked around them. The night air chilled his skin and threatened to freeze his tears, if they weren't already drying on Yuuri's clothes. Quiet sobs racked his body, making him curl in on himself even tighter. He'd thought—_

_He'd been so foolish._

_Foolish and lovestruck._

_The brush around the edges of the clearing rustled. Yuuri snapped to attention, eyes wide and searching for any predator. He may be the Feyking, but he wasn't invincible. And plenty of people would pay a pretty penny for his demise. When nothing immediately jumped out, Yuuri allowed himself a moment to breathe. He got to his feet, keeping his back against the tree and waiting. A person stepped out into the clearing, illuminated under the light of the full moon and the blanket of stars. Yuuri's breath hitched. He urged to step forward. He stayed rooted in his place._

_"Yuuri…?" Rhys blinked at Yuuri, surprised to see him there. More surprised to see him crying. Yuuri never cried, not where anyone could potentially see him._

_"What are you doing here…?" Yuuri mumbled, wiping furiously at his eyes. Hiding that he'd been crying was useless, but he tried anyway. "You said I was a monster."_

_"I— I know. I'm sorry."_

_The apology felt stilted and Yuuri didn't like it, not one bit. But it was more than he'd hoped for. Yuuri nodded, biting his lip. He waited for Rhys to explain himself. There had to be a reason he'd come back to their clearing. Rhys had always been a practical partner. Very rarely did he make grand gestures of romance—the ear cuffs had been one of those rarities._

_"What I said was uncalled for," Rhys said. "And I apologize for that. You just—I was_ dead _, Yuuri. I was supposed to stay dead. It was a lot to take in, Yuuri. I spoke rashly, but you can understand my needing some time, can't you?"_

_"I… Guess so." Yuuri fidgeted. "I thought I'd never see you again."_

_"I didn't think I would come back."_

_Yuuri winced, but accepted the knowledge. He pushed off from the tree, no longer needing to brace himself for trouble. Making brief eye contact, Yuuri approached Rhys. In turn, Rhys met him in the middle. But something wasn't right. Yuuri's gut twisted itself into a knot, making him nauseous. It was just Rhys—Rhys had never hurt him before, at least not on purpose. Inhaling deeply, Yuuri settled himself. It was just anxiety. That's all it was. He was perfectly safe. Rhys loved him, after all._

_Once they were close enough, they embraced each other. Yuuri buried his face into Rhys's collar. The familiar action relaxed him. He all but melted in Rhys's arms. And yet… He was still anxious. Relaxed, yes, but his stomach continued to turn itself over and over. Yuuri sucked in a breath, tried to let it back out._

_"Shh…" Rhys pet Yuuri's hair. "It's okay."_

_"Is it really?" Yuuri's voice was muffled against Rhys's tunic._

_"It will be."_

_Tension seized Yuuri's body. He couldn't step away. Eyes wide, he tilted his head to look up at Rhys. Why did he feel so ill? It's not like there was any—_

_"Iron…" Yuuri whispered. "Why do you have iron,_ esulrhoux _?"_

_"I really am sorry, Yuuri," Rhys said. He pressed his lips to Yuuri's ear and whispered. Words that sounded vaguely like Feytongue brushed against the cold silver of the ear cuff. The silver suddenly seared, burning against Yuuri's skin. He screamed, clawing at his ears but the jewelry wouldn't come off. Yuuri only succeeded in tearing his skin to ribbons and bleeding down his face._

_Rhys cast Yuuri a pitying look before turning his back on his once lover. He walked away, steady and unfazed by Yuuri's agony. Yuuri begged for it to stop. Sobbed that the burning iron was killing him._

_Rhys was already gone._

_Yuuri's mind blanked and his vision went dark._

 

 

_There were hands. Hands touching him. He couldn't tell who they were, his senses dulled from his ordeal. He groaned, curling away from the hands on him and into a protective ball. There were voices, too, but they were just as hazy as the hands. Their words didn't pierce through the cotton of his brain. Where was he? He tried to look. Weight tugged on his eyes. It took entirely too much effort to open them._

_"Yuuri!"_

_Yuuri. Right. That was his name. He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut. It was too bright. Everything hurt. He hurt in places he didn't even know he had. Blood stuck to his face, dried and crusted over during the night._

_"_ Inaek _, Yuuri, what happened?" Chris sounded so far away._

_Yuuri cracked his eyes open again. The brightness had faded some. He still had no idea where he was._

_"Hey," Chris said, trying to get his attention. He snapped his fingers in front of Yuuri's face._

_"Chris…" Yuuri rasped. By the Morrigan, his throat hurt so much. "Where am I?"_

_"You're home." Chris gently wiped Yuuri's face with a warm, damp cloth. After he cleaned away the dried and crusted blood, he started working on the self-inflicted scratches. "What happened to you?"_

_"I don't…" Yuuri stopped. "Water."_

_Chris nodded and left Yuuri's side. Yuuri squinted as he watched his Healer walk away. When Chris returned with a silver chalice, Yuuri all but snatched it. He drank it greedily, pausing to cough briefly and then went back to downing as much as he could as quick as he could._

_"Easy there," Chris said, taking the cup from Yuuri's crushing grip. "Better?"_

_"A little…" Yuuri nodded, pushing himself to sit up properly. "I don't remember much, but…"_

_Chris listened as Yuuri explained what he could remember in fits and starts. Occasionally he paused to cough and drink water. Other times he stopped to collect himself and rein in his breathing._

_"I'll kill him," Chris said, once Yuuri finished._

_"Don't—" Yuuri bit his lip. "Not now. We don't need another reason for the humans to hate and fear us. Uhm. How did I get home?"_

_"Little Yuri found you. He tore those infernal pieces of jewelry off of you," Chris said. "You died, Yuuri. You used one of your lives. That makes five now."_

 

_"Oi! Katsuki!"_

_Yuuri started, blinking. Yuri was back. And sounded louder than usual. Was he louder than usual? Chris told him no, that he was still feeling the effects of being dead._

_Yuri barged into the healing rooms. "Are you up yet, Katsuki?"_

_"I'm awake…"_

_"That asshole accused the disgusting lovebirds of witchcraft," Yuri snarled. "They're dying."_

_Yuuri shot out of bed and scrambled to adjust his clothes, frantic and on the verge of an attack._

_"Woah, woah!" Chris steadying Yuuri as he stumbled. "Yuuri, you just died, remember? You can't go running around by yourself now. You'll keel over."_

_"They're my—_ our _— friends!" Yuuri snapped._

_"I never said you couldn't go," Chris said. "I said you couldn't go alone."_

* * *

Yuuri breathed hard and ragged. Somewhere during his recollection, he'd started crying. When? He felt the hot tear tracks, but couldn't remember when it had started. He had balled his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, and his claws had torn into his pants. Everything around him was dull and fuzzy. He barely registered someone's hands working his fists open.

"Yuuri…?"

_Viktor_. Yuuri sucked in a breath. He forced himself to relax, letting Viktor work him open again. Letting Viktor open the door to his crumbling fortress once more sent a rush of relief down his spine. Fingers slid into his, locking together. Yuuri finally opened his eyes and lifted his head. Viktor came into his vision, concern all of his face. Yuuri blinked at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Sor—"

"Don't you dare apologize, sunshine," Viktor said, cutting Yuuri's apology in half.

"I'm alright." Yuuri cracked Viktor a weak, wobbly smile. "Thank you, though."

"I suppose now I know why you reacted the way you did in my shop…" Viktor sighed, resting his forehead against Yuuri's.

Miraculously, Yuuri didn't flinch away. He just closed his eyes and let Viktor's presence—his very aura—relax him into a warm mush. He _loved_ it. "You couldn't have possibly known, _taelea_."

"Mmn," Viktor agreed, albeit reluctantly. "What will you do now? He's still alive, right? He's the one who enslaved Otabek and set the curse on me."

"I'll _gut_ him," Yuuri hissed, low in his throat and feline in its rage.

"We all want to, Yuuri," Phichit interrupted their moment with as much tact as he could muster. "Well, maybe not gut. I mean I still want to snag Jupiter and crush him with it."

" _Aepaeli_ ," Seung-gil chided, pouring them all more tea—Yuuri noticed that everyone's cups had gone empty during the retelling of his past. "We talked about this. You do realize that Jupiter is massive, right? You could fit over a thousand of our earths in it."

"Even better!" Phichit punched the air.

"…You'd crush everyone else, too," Seung-gil sighed, rubbing his temple once his hands were free. " _Including_ us."

"Oh."

Yuuri snorted softly. "I love you. All of you."

" _Awwwwwwwwh_ ," Phichit cooed. "Yuuri's getting all sentimental on us. That's so sweet."

"Never mind. Everyone here except Phichit." Yuuri ducked his head and hid his smirk in Viktor's shirt.

Everyone in the room laughed at Phichit's dramatic, betrayed gasp.

* * *

"Yuuri?" Viktor's voice sounded close—too close.

"Hmm?" Why couldn't he just let Yuuri sleep.

"You've slept for almost two days, sunshine," Viktor answered.

Oh. That explains it. Still… He wanted to sleep for _ever_. With a groan, Yuuri opened his eyes. Viktor was _right_ in his face. Yuuri shrieked and leapt backwards, tumbling over the back of the couch. A pained whine followed the telltale thump of a heavy body hitting a hard floor. Viktor peeked over the back of the couch, blinking at Yuuri.

"Are you okay?"

" _Inaek…_ " Yuuri wheezed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Viktor said, sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck. He tried to smile, but it only looked like he'd been scolded.

"It's fine," Yuuri said. He pushed himself up, rubbing at his back. "It's not the first time you've made me fall off the couch."

"Sor—wait, what?" Viktor's smile turned into a pout. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, before we met." Yuuri's lips twitched. "Yura told me about your _case of the Mondays._ It was… The hardest I'd laughed in a while. I shouldn't thank you, since the laughter was at your expense, but… I laughed so hard I fell off the couch and nearly pissed myself."

"Even I have to admit, I was being foolish," Viktor said, snorting softly. His shoulders shook as he started to laugh. Yuuri was something. "I can't believe I thought _you_ gave me the bad luck. How did you sleep, _aeneari_ [9]?"

"Okay, I gue—" Yuuri snapped his mouth shut. His heart seized when he registered what Viktor just called him. Suddenly, his eyes stung. "Where did you hear that word…?"

"…Yuuri?" Viktor seemed to have lost his shine just then. "I didn't—I thought— It wasn't something bad was it? Chris said—"

"No, no, it means what you think it does… I just—I _can't_ , Viktor…" Yuuri sighed and shook his head. "I can't. You _know_ I can't."

"I know," Viktor said. He climbed over the back of the couch. Joining Yuuri on the floor, Viktor sat in front of him, their legs overlapping. Fingers brushed Yuuri's cheeks. Palms cupped them. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'm not Rhys. I _will_ stand by you, no matter what."

"Viktor…"

"I mean it, sunshine." Viktor rubbed his thumbs over Yuuri's cheekbones. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Yuuri's forehead.

"You… Can use the other one," Yuuri whispered, lips trembling. His fingers curled against Viktor's shirt. "If you want… Just remember that—"

"You can't," Viktor finished for him, smiling softly. "I know. And that's okay. I'm still not going anywhere. Now, let's get up off the floor and get you some food, hm? You look a bit peaky, _anuyi_ [10]."

Yuuri squeaked. He nodded. Food sounded good. Viktor said he'd been sleeping for two days. No wonder he was starving… Was he that drained after giving a life? No, it was more than that. Thinking back, it was most like a combination of losing a life and then the emotional exhaustion of reliving his past. Yuuri sighed, closing his eyes. He nearly whined when Viktor's hands left his face, but he held his tongue. By the Morrigan, he was so far gone… He wasn't sure how long he could last, but…

He wasn't ready. They had a curse to break and a traitor to deal with.

* * *

"So!" Viktor clapped his hands and rubbed them together before asking, "How are we going to find the bastard and make him answer for what he's done?"

"Easy there," Phichit said with a subdued laugh. "We're not defending Yuuri's honor here. We're working on breaking your curse, Viktor."

"Yeah, but…" Viktor fidgeted.

"I can defend my own honor, _taelea_ ," Yuuri said from somewhere behind him. "It's you we're worried about. The longer you go with that curse over your head, the more danger your life is in. You know that."

"I… You're right," Viktor said. He twisted around on the couch, leaning over the back of it and looking into the kitchen. "But it just doesn't sit well with me. You didn't deserve any of that. You're too wonderful for treatment like that."

Yuuri squeaked, almost dropped the mugs in his hands. He turned to Viktor and smiled despite the heat in his cheeks. Shaking his head, he left the kitchen and settled back onto the couch next to Viktor. He wouldn't make eye contact as he offered one of the mugs to Viktor. When Viktor reached for it, their fingers brushed. Yuuri felt his heart leap into his throat. Which was just _ridiculous_. They'd hardly been apart since Viktor first came to them for help—almost everyone in the house had stuck together. With that in mind, Yuuri knew he shouldn't be getting so worked up. But, here he was, heart thrashing at the slightest touch.

He knew exactly why.

No one had ever called him _aeneari_ or _anuyi_. No one. He couldn't remember being called anything but Yuuri, Feyking, _taelea…_ And here Viktor was, learning endearments in Feytongue from Yuuri's _family_. It wrenched at his heart in a delightfully painful way. His eyes misted, but he didn't think he'd ever been happier. Well. Except maybe when Seung-gil and Phichit got married.

"Oh!" Viktor exclaimed, eyes lighting up. "Hot chocolate! It's been forever since I've had some."

Yuuri didn't say anything. He stared off into some unknown void, somewhere over Phichit's shoulder. Phichit waved his hand in front of Yuuri's face, pinching his lips tight. Yuuri didn't blink.

"Yuuri?" Yuuri blinked. He shook his head and sipped at his mug, peering over the rim to look at Phichit.

"You zoned out again," Phichit said, grinning.

"Oh." Yuuri hummed. He cradled his mug in his hands, savoring the warmth and the smell of chocolate wafting up his nose. "What were we talking about?"

"Damn, Yuuri, you went way out there." Phichit snorted. He waved his hands, shaking off Yuuri's temporary disconnect. "We were talking about undoing Viktor's curse, and I was wondering if there was a way we could do it without hunting down Rhys and making him do it. He wouldn't be likely to cooperate, even if it's you."

"He _did_ pitch a fit about that jewelry designed to 'bring the most beautiful creature in the world to his knees'." Viktor scoffed. His face contorted into a scowl. "Though I have to admit that I agree with him on _one_ point…"

"Wh-what?" Yuuri faltered. He made a move to scoot away from Viktor's side. Viktor sensed his unease, though, and wrapped his arm around Yuuri's shoulders. Loose enough for Yuuri to escape, but firm enough to be reassuring—he hoped. Yuuri stilled, staring at Viktor with uncertainty misting those beautiful eyes of his—that reminded him so much of the tiger's eye that currently hung around a certain cù sidhe's neck. Viktor was acutely aware of Phichit's eyes on him, waiting for him to step out of line. Viktor set his mug down on the coffee table and cupped Yuuri's cheek.

"You _are_ exceptionally beautiful," Viktor said, pressing their foreheads together. "That's the _only_ thing I can agree on with that asshole. You aren't some prize to win or some trinket to hoard. You belong to you, no one else, _aeneari_."

The mist in Yuuri's eyes turned to water. Yuuri blinked rapidly, trying to keep the fresh tears in. His cheeks flamed. His throat tightened, preventing him from making the same squeaks he'd made earlier. Eventually, Yuuri's throat decided to start working again. The only sound that came out, though, was a small whimper.

"I swear to the Morrigan, Yuuri, if you don't keep him, we're not friends anymore," Phichit said. He sounded dangerously serious, but Yuuri couldn't find it in himself to be worried. Yuuri wiped at his eyes and sniffled, but his chest felt full to bursting. Happiness flooded his veins. What was the last time he'd been this happy?

"Mm'not keeping him…" Yuuri mumbled, muffled by his sleeve as he continued to wipe at his face. "S'not an object. Besides… he promised he wasn't going anywhere."

Viktor grinned as he picked up his mug again, taking a generous gulp of hot chocolate. When the mug came down, Viktor had a chocolate mustache. Yuuri marveled at him before he broke into a fit of teary giggles.

"You've got—"

"What?" Viktor tilted his head. He kept on grinning, even when his cheeks started hurting.

"Right—" Yuuri pulled his sleeve down so it covered his hand completely. He leaned into Viktor and wiped the chocolate from his upper lip. "There. You, uhm. Had a mustache."

"You two are disgusting," Yuri said as he descended the stairs. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"Yura…" Otabek trailed behind him, still wearing the tiger's eye that Yuri had put on him.

"What?" Yuri scoffed. "It's an improvement. Viktor never talked to anyone but customers. And the furniture. He literally cooed at _furniture_. And Katsuki's been hiding himself for—what?—half a century? This disgusting display is an _improvement_."

"Yura!" Viktor exclaimed, turning his attention to the eternal teenager and his new shadow. "You're awake. How are you? And you, Otabek?"

Otabek blinked. He faltered on the last stair, looking at Viktor like he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Yuri scowled and rolled his eyes. He draped himself over the back of the couch and stole Yuuri's mug. Yuuri protested with a series of feline noises, some of which were concerning to Viktor's ears, but he otherwise didn't fight off Yuri's thievery. In fact, Yuuri looked impossibly fond of the blond hellion.

"I'm _fine_ , old man." Yuri drank from Yuuri's mug like it was normal. Maybe it was. "I'm not the one that was enslaved to that vermin and died. How's Katsuki doing?"

"I'm right here, Yura…" Yuuri smiled a bit. "I'm okay. Apparently I slept for two days, but I feel much better."

They all paused for a beat. Yuuri tilted his head toward Otabek. "Beka, are you going to answer Viktor?"

"You… don't hate me?" Otabek asked, staring at Viktor, still unsure about his friendly greeting.

"No, it wasn't your fault." Viktor shrugged. "I can't begrudge you that. 'Sides. Yuuri tried to cut me to ribbons."

"I did not!" Yuuri shoved at Viktor with his foot. His impromptu victim only laughed.

"Of course I don't hate you, Otabek," Viktor said through his laughter. "You did nothing wrong."

"But I gave you a death sentence!" Otabek winced, recognizing the urgency in his own voice. "A death sentence I can't reverse…"

"Beka…" Yuri placed an arm on Otabek's shoulder.

"It was my job to _protect_ Yuuri's Court," Otabek insisted. "And I failed. I attacked the Court instead…"

"That's _enough_."

The room stilled at Yuuri's commanding voice. Everyone present looked at him, eyes wide and mouths in different stages of being agape. The air suddenly felt a few degrees cooler. Eventually, the silence broke.

"No one in this room is at fault for anything that's happened recently," Yuuri said. He leveled Otabek a stern, but fond look. "You were not yourself, Beka. You know exactly who enslaved you, so you must know you're not responsible. Remember, that man used those very cuffs to kill me once."

"But I—"

"You are not responsible for Rhys's cruelty," Yuuri said with finality. It was clear that he wouldn't hear another word on the matter. Yuuri sighed and rubbed his face. He hated getting authoritative, he really did… But he wouldn't stand for his Court members blaming themselves for anything. Yuuri took a deep breath and smiled at Otabek. "It's all right, Beka. No one here is angry with you."

Otabek nodded, but he wouldn't make eye contact with Yuuri. He reached up and fiddled with the stone hanging from his neck. It radiated a warmth that soothed Otabek's uncertainties. When Yuuri saw the action, he smiled.

"That's quite the gift," Yuuri said. "I'm guessing you're feeling much better."

Yuri hissed. He and Otabek didn't look at each other. Faint color dusted Otabek's cheeks. Yuuri arched his eyebrows, lips twitching upwards.

"I tried to give it back," Otabek said. He continued to toy with the twine. "Yura put up a fight…"

"I'm sure he said he'd get another one." Yuuri laughed when Otabek nodded. "You're welcome to join us in planning on how to confront Rhys about his curse or you can help yourselves to the kitchen. Yura can show you where everything is, if you need. I'm sure he won't mind. Our home is yours, Beka. Always has been, always will be."

"'Course I won't mind," Yuri scoffed. He pushed away from the couch, still holding Yuuri's mug hostage. He drank from it as he dragged Otabek toward the kitchen. "I'm starving. Can't plot a good revenge on an empty stomach."

Yuuri snorted softly, watching them go. If he looked like a fond parent, well.

He _did_ raise them, after all.

"Ah—I didn't get to finish my chocolate…" Yuuri hummed. He didn't sound too bothered by it.

" _Kids_ ," Phichit said rather emphatically. The shit-eating grin he wore threatened to split his face. "You sure you want to join the Court, Viktor? You'll be an instant dad. To a permanent teenager and a death dog. He sheds, by the way."

"Very funny," Yuuri said. He rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable again. "Beka does not _shed_."

"Only if he becomes _uruit_ ," Phichit said with a nod. "Just like you. And Chris."

"Wait, Chris can be _uruit_?" Viktor asked. Surprise colored his face.

"He didn't tell you?" Yuuri blinked. "While I was asleep? He's a pùca."

"A what?"

"I can take a few different forms," Chris said, appearing out of nowhere.

Yuuri shrieked.

"You have _got_ to stop doing that!" Yuuri hissed. He clutched his hand over his heart, twisting the fabric of his shirt.

"You're supposed to have keen, feline senses," Chris reminded him with a half shrug and a lazy grin. "You two have gotten comfortable, haven't you?"

"I'm just glad he's not kicking me off the couch anymore," Viktor said, sounding so utterly delighted by the development that Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up. Yuuri snatched the mug from Viktor, pouting at him before taking a petty sip of still-hot chocolate. Who knew drinking from a mug could look petty, but Yuuri certainly pulled it off.

* * *

" _Viktor_ ," Yuuri hissed. "I told you to stay home!"

"I know, but I got worried," Viktor said, holding his hands up, palms out.

"You shouldn't be worried about me," Yuuri replied, frowning at him. "I told you, it's not safe for you to be out and about. Remember? Every day gets more and more dangerous for you until we break the curse."

"You shouldn't be doing this alone, either," Viktor insisted. "You should have at _least_ brought Phichit!"

"Phichit is too likely to go for blood," Yuuri explained, keeping his voice low and level. "Yura, too. It's much easier to get information out of a live man than from a dead man."

"Okay, what about Seung-gil or Chris?"

"Seung-gil is keeping Phichit busy so he doesn't come after me," Yuuri said. "Chris is on standby in case things get out of hand. I'm not risking the safety of our _fhouxelsur_ [11] for this. He needs to be at his best in order to focus on healing anyone for anything that might happen. And before you ask, Beka's on standby, too, but he's here in the shadows somewhere. I told you he takes his guard very seriously. I'm perfectly safe."

" _Aeneari…_ " Viktor knit his brows together.

Yuuri sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. " _Taelea_ , you're risking your life here…"

"So are you!"

"You're still human!" Yuuri's voice edged from nervous to borderline hysterical. "I can't guarantee your safety!"

 

"How _touching_." Malice dripped from the shadows.

The hairs on the back of Yuuri's neck bristled. He turned toward the voice with his teeth bared and canines sharp. The voice's owner stepped into the light. The shadows of Yuuri's feline ears swiveled back and flattened and a hiss slipped from his throat. "Rhys."

Viktor muttered something about noir film villains that Yuuri didn't catch, as his focus was intent on the man approaching them. He was still wearing those silver spectacles from when Viktor first saw him, but his suit was different. More modern and charcoal gray. He wasn't wearing a hat concealing his face, either. Viktor got a good look at the face of the man whose very existence tormented Yuuri for half a century. He was blond—not nearly as pale as Viktor's hair, but it was still almost ashy. His beady eyes were a blue-green color, edging more toward the greener side. Viktor didn't like him. To someone who had never seen him, he might not have looked as unpleasant as he did, but Viktor had listened to Yuuri recount his past and break down in tears and shallow breaths because of this man. Never had Viktor wanted to put his fist through someone's face more than he did right then.

"Still a beauty, I see," Rhys said. "Enrapturing as ever. Did you get another human plaything, _tsaeli_ [12]? Are you going to kill him, too? Make him suffer eternity with you?"

" _You_ killed _me_ ," Yuuri snarled, still bristling. He looked more like a terrified cat than one looking for a fight. "And I had nothing to do with your death. I loved you! You made me believe you did, too. You have no right to call me _tsaeli_ after all these years. _Exeqel inaek_! Not a day goes by that I don't regret bringing you back."

"Big words for a pathetic nonhuman," Rhys sneered. He held up a weapon, something neither Yuuri nor Viktor could name. "I brought your favorite, _tsaeli_. You remember your _dear_ friend iron."

"Back off." Yuuri hissed and growled low in his throat. The shadow of his tail lashed behind him. He was the very picture of a feral cat backed into a corner with nowhere to run. Rhys ignored him.

"I was hoping you'd have already perished in an unfortunate accident by now," Rhys said, addressing Viktor. "But it seems that Yuuri here has kept you safe behind a gilded cage like a pretty pet. He has, hasn't he? What has he promised you, to keep you so complacent?"

"He—"

"Don't answer him," Yuuri muttered, shooting Viktor a look. "Don't give him anything—he'll use whatever he can to get under your skin."

Viktor huffed, but kept silent. It was evident that he didn't like it—that he wanted to shout and yell, tell this foul man that he's not a kept pet and Yuuri doesn't own him. The ache to keep Yuuri from worrying more than he already was kept his mouth shut. Instead of speaking, Viktor just gave Rhys the most withering look he could manage. It seemed to catch Rhys off guard for half a second, but it was enough for Viktor to feel pleased with himself.

"Not letting your pet speak?" Rhys asked. His lips curled up and his eyes glinted in the light—the picture of sadism, if there ever was one. "You certainly enjoy controlling those weaker than you."

" _Inaek_!" Yuuri bristled, fingers twitching. His claws were sharp and ready to lash out at the provocation. It was Viktor's presence at his side that kept him from lunging and escalating the situation. His blood burned with the need to draw blood—just a little. Just enough to get his point across and get Rhys to talk or, even better, break the curse. But as it stood, he risked Viktor's safety. He took a deep breath. " _Taelea_ , please, _go home._ "

"Not a chance."

" _Please_."

"No."

"Having a lovers' spat, are we?" Rhys leaned on the long weapon he held, lazily supporting his weight. His face betrayed his utter enjoyment when neither Yuuri nor Viktor protested. "That won't do."

"What do you _want_ , Rhys?" Yuuri spat.

"What do _I_ want?" Rhys parroted, grinning maliciously at Yuuri. "I want my humanity back, _monster_. I should be resting in peace right now. I should have been centuries ago. You stole my death from me. I want it back."

"You never had any humanity," Viktor interrupted them. His voice was like ice. Yuuri shivered, but Rhys didn't flinch. "If you could throw away such a wonderful _person_ who _loved_ you and tried to save your _life_ , you never had any humanity. I remember what you said that first day. No decent human being, regardless of immortality, could say such a thing—Yuuri isn't a treasure to subjugate and keep on display. You should be ashamed of yourself for saying you had any humanity to begin with, let alone to have any given back."

"You dare presume to speak to me in such a way?" Rhys's temper flared. Rage radiated off of him, but it was no match for the icy hatred in Viktor's voice. "Let's see how much bravado you have when I cut your precious monster down. Only then will I be human again!"

Yuuri stepped forward to meet Rhys. He didn't have a weapon, but he had his claws. He had his agility. He had his flexibility. Gutting Rhys would be easy. That iron weapon was heavy and Yuuri could easily move out of its way before it ever struck him. Except—

He froze. Something, somewhere, iron was touching him. He couldn't move. Nausea swirled in his gut and pain clouded his head. Unable to move out of the way, Yuuri braced himself for the deadly sting of iron cutting through his skin.

The excruciating pain never came. Instead, he felt the dull thudding that came with colliding with the pavement. Yuuri stared up from the ground. Shock coursed through his blood as he tried to register what had just happened. Viktor had pushed him out of the way, away from whatever source of iron that had kept him immobile and defenseless. Viktor stood where Yuuri had been. The iron weapon's blade cut through Viktor's clavicle and lodging itself halfway through his scapula. A grimace marred Viktor's normally ethereal features. Blood oozed from beneath the blade as Viktor moved, grasping the pole of the weapon in a death grip so that Rhys couldn't easily yank it back. The effort only exhausted him—Rhys was stronger and Viktor was weakened.

Yuuri couldn't breathe. The metallic scent burned in his nose and made his eyes water before his brain could catch up with the sight of Viktor standing above him and bleeding from a mortal wound. A sharp howling bark startled Yuuri out of his shock. A large dog leapt from the shadows, snapping at Rhys.

"Beka!"

"You mongrel dog!" Rhys shouted, yanking his weapon from Viktor's body. He swung it at Otabek. "I should have killed you when I was done with you!"

Otabek ducked low, belly brushing the ground before he sprang at Rhys while he was off balance from the wide swing. Rhys stumbled, lost his footing. Otabek took his chance. He sank his teeth into Rhys's leg and shook his head. Jagged teeth tore at the skin while Rhys struggled. Rhys snarled and kicked at Otabek with his uninjured leg. Otabek yelped when a foot connected with the side of his head. He let go of Rhys, but continued to snarl at him. He setting himself firmly between Rhys and Yuuri. He barked at Rhys the entire time the man was getting to his feet, poised to chase him off if he dared to approach.

All of this was muffled background noise to Yuuri. Even the collision between Viktor's body and the pavement was dull to his senses. It sounded like he had cotton stuffed in his ears, everything was so far away. A choked sob escaped his lips. Yuuri scrambled over to Viktor, pressing his hands firmly over Viktor's wound. Stopping the bleeding was useless—the wound was too large and was on Viktor's back as well as his chest. Logic eluded Yuuri. He kept trying. Hot, salty tears dripped down onto his lenses. His watery vision and the distortion on his lenses blinded him. Hiccuping whimpers caught in his throat in a stop-and-go.

"No, no, no, no—" Yuuri sobbed, pressing himself against Viktor. He buried his face in Viktor's uninjured shoulder. Fingers curled tightly around Viktor's shirt. His claws cut slits in the fabric. "I—"

"Hey…" Viktor rasped. "Hey now, none of that…"

"I told you to go—" Hiccup, shallow breath. " _—home_. Viktor— _taelea,_ please…"

"He would have killed you." Viktor wheezed. Breathing became harder and harder. He reached up, taking one of Yuuri's bloody hands in his. Their fingers slipped several times before Viktor finally got a firm hold. He held Yuuri's hand close to his heart.

"Don't go—"

"I'm—" Viktor coughed, disoriented and blinking slowly. He tried to focus on Yuuri, but his eyes were somewhere far away. "Not going anywhere. I promised, didn't I?"

"Vik—"

"I'll stay with you," Viktor cut him off, somehow managing to look stern despite the pallor of his face and the shallowness of his breathing. "No matter what. I promised you, _esulrhoux_ [13]."

"No!" Yuuri pressed a fist against Viktor's heart. "You can't do that… You don't get to—you don't get to call me that and just _leave_!"

Viktor didn't answer him. His eyes closed and Yuuri couldn't feel him breathing anymore. Yuuri gripped onto him. Sobs racked his body and choked him. A hand touched his shoulder. He jerked and shoved the arm away with more force than he realized. The person sighed behind him. Then, arms wrapped around him and lifted him up off the ground, pulling him away from Viktor. Yuuri kicked and struggled. He pushed away from his captor, but the arms only tightened around him.

"Shh, shh," Chris's voice soothed against Yuuri's ear. "You can't do anything for him like this…"

"But—!"

"You're more likely to hurt yourself than help him, Yuuri," Chris said. "If you try it now, you'll just end up killing yourself."

"I don't _care_!" Yuuri hissed. "I just want him _back_! I want him back right now!"

"Fuck, Katsuki, calm the _fuck_ down." Yuri growled. "Listen to the pervert for once."

"He's gone." Otabek came jogging back up. The shadows around him shifted and he took his human form. "I checked everywhere nearby to make sure he wouldn't turn up while we're taking you both home. Yura, did you get the others?"

"Chulanont and Seung-gil are clearing out a section in the basement," Yuri said, scoffing. "No idea why we're doing this in Katsuki weird ass cave."

"Yuuri won't leave his side unless we lock him up," Chris explained. "You know how he gets. This way we won't have to stuff him in the closet to get some rest."

"I'm right here…" Yuuri grumbled.

Chris adjusted Yuuri in his arms so he wasn't hauling his flailing figure. Yuuri's eyes stung from his tears and his face burned, but he'd stopped struggling against Chris. Lethargy overtook him. It wasn't sleep so much as it was a temporary suspension of consciousness. With Yuuri no longer struggling against Chris, the others could focus their attention to Viktor's cooling body. Yuri sighed and shook his head.

" _Exeqel_." Yuri's normally brusque manner lacked it bite. His skin felt like it was on fire. Letting loose another string of expletives in Feytongue, Yuri kicked at the pavement. "He couldn't just listen for once, could he?"

"If he did…" Chris sighed. "If he listened this one time, then it would be Yuuri lying there like that."

"Yeah, but…" Yuri ground his teeth together and shook his head. "Never mind. They're both stupid. C'mon, Beka, let's get the old man off the ground and back home."

"Should I help carry him or…?" Otabek tilted his head. "I could probably carry him back on my own if…"

"Whatever."

Otabek nodded. Shadows took him and in his place was his canine form, as massive as ever. Viktor hadn't been wrong, comparing him to the size of a bear. He stood still as Yuri finagled Viktor's body onto his back. Once Viktor was secure, Otabek started walking. Yuri stayed close, making sure Viktor stayed secure and didn't go sliding off Otabek's back.

"You're fur is going to be so matted when we get back…" Yuri huffed. "You're gonna need a bath."

"A shower will do just fine, Yura."

 

Chris followed after them with Yuuri gathered up in his arms. Yuuri's body was limp, slumped against his chest as Chris princess carried him back home. They'd all need a shower after this…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6 **uruit** /ʌr.’uː.iːt/ - _form-locked; the state of being stuck in one form, only applicable to Fey that have more than one form. (Yuuri, Otabek, Chris)_ [return to text]  
> 7 **inaek** /iː.’naɪk/ - _fuck/fuck you/fuck off_  
>  _ **exeqel inaek** is a compound phrase essentially meaning_ 'fuck you, asshole'.[return to text]  
> 8 **esultrir** /’ɛz.ʊl.trɪər/ - _holy shit_ [return to text]  
> 9 **aeneari** /aɪ.njɪər.’iː/ - _my heart_ [return to text]  
> 10 **anuyi** /’ɑː.njuː.iː/- _darling_ [return to text]  
> 11 **fhouxelsur** /foʊ.’ʃɛl.zʊr/ - _healer_ [return to text]  
> 12 **tsaeli** /saɪ.’liː/ - _my treasure_ [return to text]  
> 13 **esulrhoux** /ɛ.zʊl.’roʊʃ/ - _serious term for a lover who you plan to spend the rest of your life with._ [return to text]


	5. ire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **ire** | _to evolve_

"By the Morrigan," Phichit breathed when Otabek walked through the door with Viktor on his back. " _Ylae!_ They're back! Is the space ready?"

"As ready as it'll be without calling the High Magus," Seung-gil said.

"Absolutely not," Phichit said. "We don't need to. He'll just lecture us, and Yuuri doesn't need that right now."

"But the High Magus is practically Yuuri's father." For as long as he'd been with Phichit and had known Yuuri, Seung-gil had never been able to understand why Yuuri avoided the High Magus as much as he did. "Surely he can help?"

"Seung-gil, _ylae_ , that's _why_ we can't ask."

"I still don't understand."

Phichit gave Seung-gil a smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Will you go down with them? I need to get the bath started for Yuuri, and you're better equipped to deal with… With the dead."

"Alright," Seung-gil agreed. He brushed his hand over Phichit's shoulder before heading down into Yuuri's basement with Otabek and Yuri. Chris was somewhere behind them with Yuuri in his arms, but apparently hadn't shown up yet. Not that it was Seung-gil's job to worry about that just yet—Phichit would want to dunk Yuuri in a bath before letting him even look at the basement door. Once Yuri and Otabek got Viktor's body onto the table that had temporarily turned into a cot, Seung-gil sent them off to get cleaned up. Then, Seung-gil set to work. He cleaned up the blood from Viktor's body as best he could with half of him focused on this physical task and the other half of him anchoring Viktor's spirit nearby. The longer it took for Yuuri to get himself together enough to give up his last life, the harder it would be for Viktor _himself_ to return. If he failed, Yuuri would break.

Seung-gil didn't _approve_ of the idea of Yuuri giving up his final life for Viktor, but he knew better than to argue. Viktor hadn't done anything wrong—he'd rather proven himself more than worthy of Yuuri's affection. But that didn't change the fact that Yuuri had given a life to a man he loved before and had been _murdered_ for it. Call him overprotective. He wouldn't deny it.

"You don't waste any time," Chris said as he descended the stairs.

"I'd rather not have a hysterical Feyking hovering," Seung-gil replied. He looked up at Chris from his cleaning work. "I've done what I can. The rest is your job. I have to keep him anchored and that's taking more of my focus than I'd like."

"The miserable life of a necromancer," Chris joked, but his tone was flat and empty. He shook his head approached the table. "It's probably a good thing, though. Reliving the pain is—"

"Exceedingly unpleasant," Seung-gil agreed. "You only had to spit up water. Phichit and I had full body burns."

Chris winced.

"I think Otabek had it easiest," Seung-gil continued before Chris could speak. "Most of his pain came while the ear cuffs were still on. I suspect the death that came with removing them was a relief. Anyway, do the best you can to make Viktor's return as painless as possible."

"Already on it," Chris said, getting to work on setting Viktor's bones and stitching up the ragged, gaping wound. With Seung-gil free to focus on the anchor, things moved quickly and quietly.

* * *

"Phichit…—"

"Hush, babe." Phichit eased Yuuri into a sitting position on the toilet lid and ruffled his hair. "C'mon, help me out a little here."

Yuuri didn't respond, not to Phichit. He muttered something unintelligible as he made the minimum movements required for Phichit to get him undressed. Phichit pulled on Yuuri's blood stained shirt, yanking it over his best friend's head. Once his shirt was free of his arms, he slumped his shoulders and hunched. Phichit just sighed and shook his head, tugging at Yuuri's pants. He got little resistance, but not much help either. It took way longer than it should have to get Yuuri undressed. The bloodied clothes piled up in the sink. Neither Phichit nor Yuuri bothered looking at them. Yuuri wasn't really looking at anything. When his eyes weren't closed, his gaze was far away, off in some distant void.

"What a mess," Phichit said, trying to smile as he wrangled Yuuri into the tub. The water steamed and fogged the mirrors as it fell from the shower head, drumming Yuuri's head. It was delightfully warm in the bathroom, but Phichit couldn't find it in him to enjoy it. He couldn't, not with the way his best friend was staring off like he was dead. Not with the way Yuuri didn't give him any resistance with the water. Yuuri _hated_ water, would take the fastest showers possible just to get them over with. But now—Yuuri didn't even flinch. He simply existed. Phichit chewed on his lip and swallowed his sorrow. He reached for the shower head and pulled it down. Then he rinsed the blood from Yuuri's skin, occasionally having to pause and rub dried bits off. Once all the blood was rinsed away, Phichit pulled out the soaps, setting to work on Yuuri's hair first.

They continued in silence, Phichit sudsing up Yuuri's hair and lathering his reddening skin with soap. The only sound between them was the rush of water from the shower. Phichit frowned and furrowed his brows, rubbing over a few scrapes on Yuuri's arms that he figured were from the pavement. He sighed and rubbed them again, comforting his friend. Phichit shook his head. His eyes burned, but he refused to start crying. If he started, then Yuuri might come out of his stupor with another fit of hysteria. A hysterical Yuuri would not function well enough to painlessly give up a life. Desperation would make him careless—it was, after all, desperation that got him stuck as a cat for two weeks after bringing Phichit and Seung-gil back from the dead. And this time…

This time, it was Yuuri's last life.

Phichit blinked and looked up from the tub as the door creaked open behind him. He smiled, though subdued, when Yuri poked his head in.

"How is he…?" Yuri frowned, not wanting to look like he cared, but Phichit knew better. They all did.

"About as well as you'd expect," Phichit said. "He won't respond to anything. It's like something in him died with Viktor."

"Disgusting." Yuri huffed. His insult had no edge to it, not even underlying fondness. He, like the rest of them, seemed to be going through the motions. Yuri hesitated at the door. " _Inaek_. Does he— do you need anything?"

"Actually," Phichit said. "If you could get a warm change of clothes for him?"

"Ugh. Back downstairs?"

"Back downstairs, kiddo," Phichit confirmed with a tight smile. "And let me know how they're doing down there when you get back."

"They're fine," Yuri grumbled as he re-entered the bathroom, throwing a set of clothes at Phichit. "The pervert has Viktor stitched up and dressed. Thankfully. I didn't need to see a naked corpse in Katsuki's bedroom."

Yuuri jerked, splashing water. He looked up at Yuri, no longer far away. His face was stricken, pallid and his jaw went slack. Fresh tears burned at the corners of his eyes and Yuri knew the exact moment he screwed up.

" _Inaek_ …" Yuri muttered.

Yuuri scrambled out of the tub, slipping more often than not. Phichit grabbed him before he could crack his chin on the porcelain. He rubbed soothing circles over his back and murmured into Yuuri's hair. Yuuri's body and hair soaked through Phichit's clothes, but he didn't care. He focused entirely on getting Yuuri to calm down enough that he wouldn't hurt himself. His best friend was suffering and helplessness twisted inside him. When Yuuri finally stopped struggling, Phichit relaxed his hold. But Yuuri had also started sobbing again. Phichit sighed and threaded his fingers through Yuuri's hair, whispering reassurances to him.

Yuri took that as his cue to get out. He took the bloodied clothes in the sink with him on his way out. With a last glance back, Yuri furrowed his brow before bolting. In his haste, he barreled into Otabek's broad chest. He stumbled back on step, and shook himself off.

"Yura?"

"I—" Yuri swallowed, looking back at the bathroom. "Did you get Viktor's clothes? I got Katsuki's… There's no way they'll get clean, not with all the blood. I figured I'd burn them out back."

"I thought that, too," Otabek agreed. He handed over the clothes in his hand before peering over Yuri's head to the bathroom. "Is Yuuri okay?"

"I may have opened my fat mouth." Yuri shrugged, but the rawness of his lip suggested he wasn't as nonchalant about it as he made it appear. Otabek knew what a chewed up lip looked like—it was hard not to, when the Feyking was so prone to such anxious bad habits. Yuri huffed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Chulanont might need some help. Katsuki's—yeah, I fucked up. I'm just gonna—go—take care of these. Yeah."

Otabek nodded slowly, stepping aside and letting Yuri past him. Once Yuri was clear of the hallway, Otabek continued on into the bathroom. He poked his head in, gaging the situation first. The bathroom was a mess. Water had splashed up on the walls and ceiling in Yuuri's thrashing. Phichit took the brunt of the damage—he was almost as soaking wet as Yuuri himself was. Then, the sink with its diluted blood threatening to stain the porcelain.

"Do you need help?"

Phichit looked up from Yuuri and relaxed. Relief washed over him. He nodded quickly. "Thank the Morrigan. Getting him out of the tub and into clothes was starting to look impossible."

"What do you need me to do?" Otabek asked, stepping in all the way and shutting the door behind him.

"Just—" Phichit adjusted Yuuri, huffing. "Get me a towel first so I can dry him off. Then I need you to hold him up so I can get him dressed."

Almost immediately, a towel presented itself to Phichit. Phichit smiled, actually smiled, and took it. Thanking Otabek, he draped the towel over his shoulder and leaned into the tub, draining the water. Once the tub was empty save for Yuuri himself, Phichit toweled him off. Taking extra care of any of Yuuri's scrapes, Phichit dried his best friend as thoroughly as possible. Yuuri didn't fight him; let Phichit do whatever he wanted. Soon enough, he was dry. Otabek helped him out and Phichit wrangled Yuuri into a set of sweats.

"Do you want me to take him downstairs?" Otabek supported all of Yuuri's weight, letting Phichit get up. He wrapped an arm around Yuuri's waist and pulled Yuuri's arm across his shoulders. Yuuri grumbled, but otherwise didn't complain. He wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Viktor, apologize to him repeatedly until he could make it right.

"No, not just yet," Phichit said, frowning at Yuuri. "Kitchen first. Make sure he actually eats something before he gives up his last life. I don't know when he'll have the strength to eat after that. He's exhausted and heartbroken, on top of being desperate. We probably won't see much of him for awhile after he does it."

Yuuri started to protest at that—he wanted to go _immediately._ The longer he waited—

"Yuuri, sweetheart, you need to eat something," Phichit said. "I know you're scared, but Seung-gil is with Viktor now, okay? He's got a good hold on Viktor and they'll still be there after you _eat_. If you don't, you'll just exhaust yourself and risk hurting both of you. Otabear's gonna take you to the kitchen and you're going to put something in your stomach, even if it's a small sandwich. And you won't leave the kitchen until you do. Right, Otabear?"

"Everyone's worried about you," Otabek said. "We're not trying to stop you from bringing him back—we know how much he means to you. We're just not going to let you kill yourself for him."

Yuuri stopped protesting at that. He sighed and resigned himself to Otabek's manhandling, too exhausted to walk properly. He knew if Otabek let him go, he'd stumble and hit the ground. He was just—so _tired_. At the very least, Otabek knew how to guide him without knocking him into anything, so the trip to the kitchen was blessedly uneventful.

Otabek set him down in a chair before pulling things from the fridge. A small glass of cream appeared in front of Yuuri and he drank it greedily. He'd forgotten the last time he had good cream — before he met Viktor, but how long before that? He shook his head and set the glass back on the table. He willed himself to save some of it to wash down whatever food Otabek was about to give him. He wasn't hungry. But Phichit was right—he would risk hurting himself if he didn't have the energy.

"Here," Otabek said, setting down some pastries that Seung-gil had hidden somewhere.

As if Seung-gil could hide anything from a canine's sense of smell. The plate was warm—they were fresh from the microwave. Yuuri hadn't heard it go off. Or start, for that matter. Still—they smelled delicious. Hunger slammed into him with the force of a sledgehammer. The pastries were nothing close to a full meal, but Yuuri didn't care. They were _food_. He had to force himself to eat at a steady pace, lest he make himself sick. He be no good to anyone if he let that happen. It helped that Otabek kept an eye on him. He didn't like being so _weak_ , or having anyone's pity but… These people were his family and he knew when he needed their help. If they left him to his own devices, they probably wouldn't have a house left, given his latest bout of hysterics.

The pastries had vanished. Yuuri downed the rest of the cream and sighed. Okay. He'd eaten. He'd had cream. He was somewhat functioning. With food in his stomach and the cream rejuvenating him, he took a deep breath. Time to think things through. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Viktor had listened to him and stayed behind. Would Otabek have made it in time to keep Rhys from slicing through him…? He would have been able to handle himself just fine, but that iron—he didn't know where it came from. How had it gotten close enough to subdue him and keep him from running? There were too many questions he didn't have an answer to; would never have an answer to. But he _did_ have answers to some things.

Viktor wasn't lost. Not yet. Seung-gil bought him time to recover his rational mind and regain some of his energy. Perhaps most comforting of all was that no one was trying to stop him. Every one of them, at least once, has said something about his using his lives to bring others back. Yuri had called him stupid, but thanked him nonetheless. Every single one of his family warned him against Rhys, but he hadn't listened. He wished that he had—it was always his singular overwhelming regret.

But—

If he hadn't—

Would he have ever met Viktor?

A thought flashed through his mind. It steeled his resolve. Of _course_ he would have met Viktor at some point in their lives. Viktor had drawn a card to prove that. A card from Phichit's deck that had mysteriously come from his own. Seung-gil had been right, as much as Yuuri refused to believe him then. There was only the one explanation for Viktor being able to draw one of Yuuri's cards out of thin air. Yuuri rubbed his face. He really ought to talk to Viktor about it. Besides—Viktor had cared about him from day one. Viktor hadn't shown him any curious fascination or a hint of ulterior motives. Just—honest, genuine care right from the beginning.

Yuuri owed him a conversation at the very least.

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri placed his palms on the table. He pushed himself up into a stand. His legs wobbled when he took a step away from the table, but brushed Otabek's assistance off when he approached. Yuuri offered him a thin smile.

"I need to walk on my own for this," he said. "But—"

"Of course," Otabek said. "I'm here to catch you. Always."

"You're such a good man, Beka," Yuuri murmured. "You didn't deserve half of what I've put you through."

"You didn't put me through anything."

"Thank you for being with me for this long." Yuuri sighed, slowly making his way to the basement doors. "I don't deserve the love and loyalty you and the others give me…"

Otabek made to answer, but Yuuri was already descending the stairs. At the bottom, Yuuri paused and looked at Otabek. "Where is Yura? Is he okay?"

"He went out back," Otabek said. He hesitated. "We weren't able to save the clothes. There was too much—"

"Blood, I know." Yuuri sighed before studying Otabek. "Thank you, Beka. For bringing him back with you. And for looking out for Yura. Will you— make sure he's okay? And let him know that I'm… Better. I'm not okay yet, but I'm better."

"Of course." Otabek nodded. He waited until Yuuri disappeared into the basement proper that served as a bedroom. Then, turning on his heel, he went back upstairs and out back to check on Yuri.

Yuuri shut the second set of doors behind him. His basement bedroom smelled too clean. To much like antiseptic. But it was better than the alternative. Rolling his shoulders, he stepped into the main section. His appearance got Chris's and Seung-gil's attention. They both seemed to deflate, relieved at his presence. The tension in the air didn't dissolve completely, but it lessened all the same.

"Yuuri," Chris greeted him, getting up from his seat next to the table they'd brought in. "I didn't think you'd be walking yet, as tired as you were. I thought Otabek was going to have to carry you down."

"He almost did," Yuuri said. He didn't smile—he was saving his energy for Viktor. "But I'm doing better. I need to thank him and Phichit. I imagine… I made Phichit's night a little difficult."

Neither Seung-gil nor Chris answered that. Instead, Chris moved away from the table and gave Yuuri space. Seung-gil stayed closer, simply for the fact that he needed to be close to keep Viktor's spirit anchored. Yuuri suspected that Viktor could have drifted into that unreachable place where the dead dwell, if not for Seung-gil.

"How long?" Yuuri asked, blinking at Seung-gil.

"Over an hour," Seung-gil said. "I think he's more talkative dead than he ever was alive. He kept asking for you."

"Best not keep him waiting any longer, kitkat." Chris ruffled Yuuri's hair.

Yuuri swiped at him half-heartedly, entirely for the principle of the thing. He took a breath and settled. His shadow warped and shifted under him before it engulfed him and his form shrank. When the shadow finally settled, Yuuri stretched his long feline body. He sat back on his hind legs and put his paws on the chair, ears flat and tail swishing over the floor. Now… To get on the table without hurting himself or knocking the chair over…

"Sometimes you should think ahead." Chris snorted. He knelt down and scooped Yuuri up, dropping him on the table. "Are you sure you actually get smaller? You're still heavy, you know."

Yuuri flattened his ears at Chris, meowing indignantly.

"Oh." Chris laughed. He held his hands up and backed off. "Not talking to me. I get it. I'll be upstairs. I'm starving."

"Are you ready, Yuuri?" Seung-gil asked. "You're going to be like this for awhile."

"I am." Yuuri picked his way up the table and crawled up onto Viktor's chest. It embarrassed him, but he was a cat—and this was the best way to breathe life, since Viktor was lying supine on the table. "I know we'll work something out. But—he gave his life for me. It's only right that I give it back."

"Alright," Seung-gil said. "I'm letting him go now."

Once Seung-gil let go of Viktor's spirit, he backed away from the table. Yuuri took a deep, ragged breath, as if he were inhaling Viktor's life force. In a sense, he was. After several long moments, Yuuri exhaled against Viktor's icy lips. As with Otabek, a tendril of silver mist transferred from Yuuri to Viktor. He stayed like this until the sudden rise of Viktor's chest unbalanced him.

Viktor gasped, an intake of breath that left him coughing and wheezing. He was breathing. …sort of. He _could_ breathe. He managed to calm his breathing enough to focus on where he was. The last thing he physically remembered was lying on the pavement in the middle of the night, bleeding out with Yuuri sobbing over him. It went dark after that, but then—

There was Seung-gil? Keeping him from drifting away and following that tempting eternal peace. Tempting, but not what Viktor wanted. Viktor wanted Yuuri, and Yuuri was still alive. So Seung-gil kept him sane, and even let him chat to his heart's content about everything he'd learned and how honored he was that he'd been allowed into Yuuri's world—their world. Eventually, Seung-gil had started to seem bored, but he never told Viktor to stop. Then things darkened again, but it wasn't cold like last time. It was… Not warm like temperature, but warm like… Family. Like love.

A weight pressed down on his chest. It hurt, like the ghost of the wound in his shoulder, but… It was also different—comforting somehow. Viktor groaned and pried his eyes open. Blessedly, it wasn't bright. The room was dim with a few warm-light lamps at a respectable distance. He blinked slowly, staring up at the ceiling and piecing together where he was. The weight on his chest began to rumble. A familiar cat crouched on him, watching him with bright, expectant russet eyes. Viktor lifted a stiff, heavy arm and wrapped it around the cat, working his fingers through fur. Yuuri purred under his fingers.

"Yuuri…" Viktor smiled, tired and weak. It was astounding, how exhausting death could be. "Beautiful Yuuri…"

"I'm still mad at you," the cat said, despite the purring goo Viktor was turning him into.

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again…" Yuuri pouted.

"Am I not allowed to call you pet names anymore?" Viktor teased. He was rewarded with the dig of claws into his skin. " _Ow, ow, o—_ "

"You know what I meant."

"Okay, okay," Viktor winced. "I'm sorry. That was in poor taste."

Yuuri chirruped softly in satisfaction, withdrawing his claws. He slid from Viktor's chest. Shaking out his ample fur, he started to poise himself to hop off the table. The distance… Was suddenly much more intimidating in his exhaustion. A tiny shift behind him set him off balance and his paws scrabbled against the table. He hit the floor in an inelegant heap of fur and hissing. Viktor shot up, immediately regretted it, and carefully peered over to the floor.

"Yuuri?"

"Not. A. Word." Yuuri grunted. He gathered his feet under him and stood up. "Mm'fine."

"If you say so…" Viktor winced as he eased his legs over the edge of the table. "How long was I gone?"

"You were dead for over an hour, Viktor," Seung-gil said from the doors to the stairs. They'd forgotten he was still there. "Get some rest, both of you. There's going to be a _talk_ in the morning. One that's been long overdue."

Yuuri hissed at that, but he had the decency to look cowed. It was true, after all. He'd been ignoring the card fiasco the day Viktor came into their lives. He needed to apologize to Seung-gil, too, for getting so snappish with him over that _thing_ that they never talked about, never bothered to name. And Viktor…

Viktor had a right to know. Especially after _dying_ for him. After Yuuri using up his last life for Viktor, forcing _uruit_ onto himself. He'd used his last life, and he'd agreed with the others that there was no clue when, if ever, he'd be able to come back. Which meant that he'd slowly go mad and then lose himself. He'd cease to have any human-ness to him and he'd be reduced to nothing more than an _animal_.

It set both their teeth on edge.

* * *

"Is there something we're missing here?" Chris asked as he lounged on the couch, taking up the whole space like it was _his_ and not Yuuri's. Which was fine, really, as Yuuri was perfectly content to embrace the warm nest that was a bundle of blankets in Viktor's lap. Perfectly. The fingers working gently through his fur didn't hurt, either. He almost wanted to close his eyes and sleep. But they were all gathered for a reason, so he flicked his tail. And if he kneaded his front paws against Viktor's thigh with a little too much claw…

" _Ouch_ ," Viktor his. "Can you not with the claws?"

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry. Not in the least.

"This is so awkward…" Phichit said, but he couldn't help the crinkle of his eyes. "We really need a way to get you back into your other form. This is weird. Cute, but weird."

"Yes, well," Seung-gil cut in. "We're not going to figure it out by ignoring the thing that _started_ it all."

"…Rhys?" Viktor asked, chewing the inside of his cheek.

"Well, if you want to get super technical about it, yeah," Phichit conceded. "But also not. We're talking about the card you marked with your blood."

Victor paused. He furrowed his brows, thinking back to that first meeting. And then—

He picked up Yuuri and stared into his fluffy cat face. Yuuri protested, scrabbling with his paws but finding no purchase. Yuuri flattened his ears back and made to hiss at him. Viktor lifted him up to eye level, not backing down from Yuuri's challenge.

"You little shit," Viktor said, using all his self control not to break into an amused smile. "You said I wasn't going to die."

Silence echoed in the room. Everyone waited for Yuuri's response, waited for some meltdown or other from either anxiety, terror, or rage. It was never clear with him.

"I did not!" Yuuri pawed at Viktor's face, but Viktor leaned _just_ out of his reach. "I said that the card doesn't necessarily mean death! It's just about _change_. And you wouldn't have if you hadn't pushed me out of the way."

"And then _you_ would have died!"

"Better me than you!"

Something snapped in Viktor. He inhaled sharply.

"Yuuri, you have _people_. You have _family_." Viktor narrowed his eyes, even as he settled the giant cat back into his lap and cupped furry cheeks. "I don't have any of that."

Surprisingly, Yuuri didn't swipe at him with a sharp set of claws. Viktor had been expecting it, prepared for it, even. But it never came. Yuuri was just looking at him with sad, sad eyes that betrayed a broken heart. Viktor's own heart seized. He toed the line too hard and he knew it. It was too late to reel back and save face. Yuuri's silence was deafening. It pressed against his head and he swore he could feel Yuuri's heartbreak as if it were his own. What had started off as light teasing had fallen apart spectacularly, imploding on itself.

This time, everyone knew that the sudden silence was Yuuri's terror. Yuuri's _heart_.

"Viktor—" Chris made to get up, but Phichit pulled him back down.

The silence lasted another beat after that.

"Do we really mean so little to you?" Yuuri asked, his voice just shy of watery and wobbly. Well, that explained why Yuuri hadn't taken a cheap shot at him with his paws free. Viktor had certainly made an ass out of himself this time. There would be no talking his way out of this, especially when Yuuri continued: "Do _I_ mean so little to you…?"

"Oh—" Viktor hugged Yuuri to his chest, not caring at all if he were to suffocate in such fine black fur. "No, no, _esulrhoux_ , that's not—"

"But it is." This time it came from Phichit, who was leveling Viktor a surprisingly calculated stare. "When you drew a card that didn't belong to me out of _my_ deck, I knew. I didn't say anything, not with the way Yuuri lashed out at Seung-gil so spectacularly. But I knew."

"You two…" Seung-gil shook his head. "You two have _something_ that no one else has."

"Not even Seung-gil and I had it," Phichit said. "We didn't have that initial draw to each other. Actually, I think we butted heads for all of a month before Yuuri locked us in a room together."

"I believe he said, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't letting us out until we could be civil enough with each other to _not_ tear apart his courtyard." Seung-gil shrugged.

"Worked out in the end," Phichit said with a bright grin. It hurt to look at. "Five hundred years and I still have the best husband ever."

" _Aepaeli_ …"

"It's true!"

"Okay, but what are the rest of us missing?" Chris asked, frowning.

On the other side of the room, Yuri and Otabek had been astoundingly quiet—well, Yuri was. Then again, Yuri probably knew what was going on, too. He'd grown up with Yuuri and had been hanging around Viktor's place for who knew how long. They suspected Yuri was going through one of those phases where he wanted to be home but he didn't want to _be_ home, so he avoided Yuuri's house like the plague.

"Call it soulmates," Yuri said noncommittally. "Or magnetism. Or whatever. It's all disgusting. I think it's fuckin' stupid. But just because I think it's stupid doesn't make it any less real. Way to fucking go, asshole. You're lucky Beka and the pervert haven't eviscerated you yet."

Otabek said nothing, but the look on his face told Viktor everything he needed to know. Viktor hadn't been wrong: Yuuri had _people_. He had a whole circle of family around him. People that would kill for their broken and bruised—but healing—Feyking. And right now, he was the outsider. He'd brought their Yuuri to tears and they were waiting for an excuse. Even Chris—who he'd thought was his best friend. But Yuuri commands a sense of love and loyalty that Viktor has never seen before and will likely never see again. But he could understand. Even though he'd put his foot in his mouth, he felt the aching need to make it right. Viktor swallowed and focused on Yuuri, who was still looking up at him with hurt expectation, every bit the graceful house lion that he was at twenty-five pounds of beauty, grace, and fur. He drew Yuuri closer to him again, pressing his face against Yuuri's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Viktor whispered into silk black fur. "I didn't mean it that way—"

"I know." Yuuri sighed. He flicked his ears before wriggling impatiently. "You're squishing me."

"You mean everything to me," Viktor breathed as he loosened his grip for Yuuri's comfort. "But I'm still getting used to… Not being by myself. Up until now it's always been me—"

Yuri made a strangled, offended noise.

"—and Yura." Viktor cut him a look that said he wasn't finished, but Yuri just sniffed at him. Viktor couldn't help but smile. He focused back on Yuuri, stroking through his fur to relax him. Then, he plucked up Yuuri's front paws and kissed the pads. "I never meant to hurt you. But I couldn't—it's only been a short while, but already I can't imagine being in a world without you or your sa— _ouch!_ Claws, claws!"

Phichit fell off the couch cackling. Yuuri didn't like his paws being played with—and he let Viktor know. Even gentle kisses on his paw pads would meet with claws. Viktor had the misfortune of getting a couple claws down his nose. The skin hadn't broken, but it still hurt. Viktor whined.

"I'm _sooorrrryyy_ ," he drawled the whine out pitifully.

Satisfied, Yuuri withdrew his paw from Viktor's face. "No touching the paws."

"Of course. It won't happen again." Viktor tried to be sincere. Yuuri leveled him a look that he said he didn't believe him for a second. Viktor just smiled sheepishly before giving Yuuri's tufted ears apologetic ear scritches. To Viktor's relieved delight, Yuuri melted under the touch. "Hey—Yuuri? How long…"

"How long for what?" Yuuri tilted his head into Viktor's scratches, unashamed of the purring.

"Before the uhm— _uruit_?" Viktor asked, hesitant and unsure.

"Oh." Yuuri sighed. His tail swished before curling around his paws. "I don't know. I've never been _stuck_ before. I've lasted a month without having to change back on my own, but I had a goal then. I wasn't stuck, then. I didn't have—"

"Yuuri, darling," Chris said, gently cutting in. "That should be a worst case scenario. Thinking about it now will only make it easier to fall into it. We really ought to take this to the High Magus."

"I've been saying that for days," Seung-gil said. He frowned at Phichit to get his point across.

"He'll just _lecture_ ," Phichit whined. "Yuuri doesn't need a lecture right now."

"No, I really don't…" Yuuri sighed. "But he might be the only one who knows what to do. He's older than all of us."

"Probably even _combined_ ," Yuri muttered.

" _I knew it!_ " Phichit hissed. "I knew he was older than dirt!"

Chris and Yuuri snorted at the same time.

"He's not _that_ old, darling." Chris ruffled Phichit's hair. "And I don't think he's really older than all of us combined. Maybe only twice as old as Yuuri here."

"Still older than dirt." Phichit sniffed.

"Oh, come on." Yuuri huffed. "Are you calling me old now, too?"

"I would _never_!" Phichit mock gasped, clutching his heart. "You're only what… Seven-fifty? Not even a thousand! Still young."

Viktor blanched. He was just beginning how _old_ everyone here was compared to him. They were young compared to their own aging standards, but Viktor was still human and barely hitting thirty. He fidgeted under the weight of the cat in his lap, trying not to look too self-conscious. Did they consider him a child?

"Viktor."

Viktor didn't squeak, no he did not.

"Relax," Yuuri said. "You're getting fidgety and you're going to knock me off your lap. I _will_ move if you don't sit still."

"Sorry," Viktor mumbled, settling down but not at all relaxing.

"Ah—" Chris started laughing. "Viktor thinks he's too young."

"That's not—"

" _Anuyi_ ," Yuuri said with a sigh. "You'll get nowhere fast, comparing yourself to us. We're not human. Only Seung-gil and Phichit have ever been human."

"But—"

" _Viktor_."

"Yuuri's right," Phichit said, offering Viktor a reassuring smile. "You're an adult human being. You're no lesser than we are. We're just… Different. That's all."

"Viktor, we've been friends for a few years now," Chris added. "Have I _ever_ treated you less than an equal?"

"I—no."

"Then trust us," Chris said with a strange sense of finality. "Now are we going to go talk to the High Magus or not?"

"I suppose, if we have no other choice…" Phichit pouted. "Maybe we should grab drinks for courage or something."

"That won't be necessary," Yuuri said. He slid from Viktor's lap and padded to the door. "I'm going, then."

"H-hey, wait for us!" Phichit scrambled to follow his best friend.

* * *

In the end, Yuuri left everyone at home except for Chris and Viktor—he loved Phichit, but he had a tendency to rile Celestino up more than necessary when it came to anything involving Yuuri. He would have brought Seung-gil with him, since he was supposed to be the expert in all things life and death, but Seung-gil was also the only one capable of making sure Phichit behaved. Otabek stayed behind so Yuri would stay.

Viktor absolutely _refused_ to stay—this was about Yuuri's _life_ after all. And he didn't need another eviscerating shovel talk from Phichit. He carried Yuuri's giant feline body securely in his arms without squeezing so hard that Yuuri squirmed away from him. Chris walked beside them down the street. Yuuri had never been more glad that everything they needed was always within walking distance. Yuuri purred quietly—he was safe and secure, and warm. Viktor had relaxed enough that Yuuri didn't feel the need to squirm away or dig his claws into whatever patch of skin was convenient.

"So—" Viktor started, paused, cleared his throat. "Who—who is this High Magus, anyway?"

"Oh, you know," Yuuri said nonchalantly. "You've met him before."

"I have?" Viktor blinked.

"You eat lunch there almost every day," Chris supplied helpfully.

"Wait—"

"He does keep one of my saucers."

"What?"

Chris laughed so hard he snorted. He misstepped and stumbled forward, but managed to stay on his feet. "I love you, Vik. You're so goddamn funny."

"Chris!" Viktor whined.

"I suppose it's not exactly obvious that Celestino is one of us…" Yuuri said, tilting his head as he contemplated the conversation. "He prefers it that way. Fewer people heckling him for his input."

"Yuuri's always been the only one to ever get his undivided attention," Chris added.

"Only because he practically raised me," Yuuri said, flicking his ears. "Though I'm still not entirely sure why he named me heir, either… There were better candidates."

"Yuuri!" Celestino's voice boomed, somehow both friendly and scolding at the same time. Viktor marveled at the duality. Yuuri, however, did not. He only shrank, even as Celestino continued. "You need to stop doing that to yourself. That self-deprecation is going to kill you one of these days."

"Ah—sorry." Yuuri sighed. "Hard habit to break…"

"Mmn, work on that," Celestino said, nodding. "I see you've brought your human with you. And yet you're in that form?"

"It's my—"

"Viktor." Yuuri huffed. He wiggled and squirmed until Viktor let go and set him on the floor. "It's not your fault, it was my choice."

"Ah." Celestino nodded again. "I see. You used your last one."

"I did," Yuuri confirmed, sitting with his tail curled around his paws. "Everyone's convinced there's a way to undo being stuck in this form. It's…"

"We're trying to avoid _uruit_ as soon as possible," Chris said. "Seung-gil and I thought you might have answers."

"Come, come," Celestino beckoned them to the back of the cafe.

The three followed him, Yuuri in front and Viktor and Chris behind him, side by side. Once they were all gathered in what seemed to be Celestino's office, Celestino shut the door behind them. Yuuri settled himself on top of Celestino's desk, carefully avoiding a stack of paperwork. The office was a disaster of paper, books, general office supplies… Yuuri had to balance perfectly so that he didn't cause a further mess. The smell of coffee grinds and some kind of incense seeped into the very fabric of the room, walls and all. Celestino sat at his desk, but he didn't shoo Yuuri off.

"I don't regret it," Yuuri said. He gave Celestino a strangely challenging look. "I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Is there _anything_ you can do?" Chris asked.

"Unfortunately not," Celestino said. He ran his hand over Yuuri's head, stroking his fur affectionately. Yuuri closed his eyes as he leaned into the touch. "I wasn't going to judge you, Yuuri. You should know better. I knew your human here was important the day Otabek showed up."

"You—wait." Yuuri flattened his ears. His tail twitched. "You knew it was Otabek? And you just _let it happen_?"

"You can't just _change_ fate, kiddo." Celestino blinked slowly. "You of all people should know that."

"I—"

"Yuuri."

"I know, I know…" Yuuri sighed. He turned his gaze to Viktor. "It was meant to happen this way, then."

"Yes." Celestino ruffled Yuuri's fur. Yuuri didn't scratch at him. "It was."

"So—I was supposed to die?" Viktor swallowed, frowning.

"Well, we're all supposed to die _eventually_ ," Celestino said with a roll of his eyes. "But yes."

"So that's why it was _my_ Death card that he pulled from Phichit's deck…"

"Most likely," Celestino agreed. "Now, about your current problem."

"Can you fix it?" Chris asked.

"There's nothing to _fix_ ," Yuuri said. "I'm don't need _fixing._ I just need to be able to change forms again."

"I can't change your form, Yuuri," Celestino said. "It's your body, not mine."

"But—"

"I used all my lives." Yuuri cut Viktor off. "I accept the consequences of that. I just didn't expect…"

" _Esulrhoux_ , please—"

_That,_ was Yuuri's unfinished thought. He never expected someone to call _him_ such an endearment. And here they were, Yuuri with no regrets about saving his life but regretting the loss of his human form—he never expected to want to _be_ with anyone. And he wanted. By the Morrigan, he _wanted_. While he lost himself to his yearning, he almost missed the continuing conversation.

Celestino's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. His lips twitched with the effort to keep from smiling. "Viktor."

"Y-yes?" Viktor took an involuntary step back, hitting the door in the process.

"That's a very intimate thing to be calling Yuuri with so many other people around."

Chris snickered into his hand. Viktor blinked and looked at Yuuri, his cheeks burning. Yuuri just looked at him with a tilted head.

"Yuuri hasn't stopped me yet…"

"Yet?" Celestino cocked his head to the side, looking at Yuuri this time. "This isn't the first time?"

"Mmn… No." Yuuri shook his head. "The third, I think."

" _Really_ now?"

"It's true," Chris said, snickering. "I taught him the word. And a few other Feytongue endearments."

"I'm sure Yura's been teaching him expletives," Yuuri added.

"And he's called you something so intimate three times?"

"To be fair," Yuuri started slowly. "The first time he was bleeding out in my arms."

"And the second?" Celestino arched an eyebrow.

"Groveling for forgiveness," Chris supplied. "He almost got gutted."

"I uh… Maye have tried to suggest that my life wasn't worth as much as Yuuri's…?"

"Dumbass." Celestino snorted, rolling his eyes.

"But—back to the topic at hand…" Yuuri yawned and dragged a paw over his ear. "There's nothing you can do to help?"

"Not that _I_ can do, no." Celestino shook his head. "But there is… _Something_ I can offer."

"Whatever it is, we'll take it," Chris cut in. "We'll never forgive ourselves if we let Yuuri sink into _uruit_."

"Gifts that are freely given can also be taken back," Celestino said without explanation.

Chris and Viktor blinked at the same time, sharing similar bewildered expressions. They looked at each other, then at Celestino and Yuuri. Chris frowned.

"But Yuuri hasn't given—" His eyes widened. He focused on Yuuri. "You think it'll work?"

"It's worth a shot…" Yuuri shrugged.

"What are you talking about?" Viktor asked.

"Possibly taking my life back," Yuuri said. "Literally, not just in the sense of getting closure and moving on. But actually, literally, take back the life I gave him…"

Viktor worried on his lip. He wanted to be optimistic, he really did, but then… What if it didn't work? What if all the effort was for nothing? He couldn't—

"Whatever you're thinking right now, stop it," Yuuri said, flicking his tail. He dropped from the desk and padded to Viktor's feet. Viktor wasted no time in plucking the impressive weight of Yuuri's Maine Coon body from the floor. Yuuri purred, butting his head against Viktor's chin. Then, "It's a stupid thought. That pessimistic face doesn't suit you."

"I'm sorry," Viktor mumbled, burying his nose into the muff of fur at Yuuri's neck. He closed his eyes and continued speaking despite the mouthful of fur. "You're so important to me, _aeneari_."

"You're… Crying into my fur, Viktor…" Yuuri mumbled.

* * *

With Celestino's advice in mind, the trio left the cafe. It had started raining while they were inside, much to Yuuri's displeasure. The damp air clumped in his fur. When a droplet hit Yuuri between the eyes, he hissed and flicked his ears.

"I hate the rain," Yuuri grumbled.

"No you don't," Chris said. "It's only when it gets in your fur that you have a problem with it. Otherwise, you love the rain. Don't think I don't remember the Spring Equinox. And Midsummer."

"We do not speak of the Spring Equinox." Yuuri growled low in his throat, ears flattening. The tip of his tail twitched irritably. "We do not utter the words 'Spring Equinox'. Never again."

"What… Happened on the equinox?" Viktor asked. He adjusted his hold on Yuuri so that the rain didn't hit him.

"We do not speak of it!" Yuuri nipped at Viktor's fingers.

"I'll tell you later," Chris said. He winked at Viktor. "It's a grand story. Midsummer, too.”

"I hate both of you."

"I love you, too, kitkat." Chris laughed.

"Sorry, _aeneari_ ," Viktor said with a sheepish smile. "I just want to learn as much about you ask I can, if you'll let me."

"I suppose that's…" Yuuri paused, sighing. "Not too much to ask for. But can we save that for after we deal with Rhys? I miss my opposable thumbs. And it's hard to think about anything other than finally being free."

"Right." Viktor nodded. "Priorities. But later?"

"I can be bribed," Yuuri said noncommittally. "Still not going to talk about the equinox."

"Okay, okay." Viktor smiled. "I'll treasure whatever you decide to share with me."

Yuuri couldn't help his purr. Even with his rain-dampened mood, Viktor managed to make him smile. Or. Want to smile, anyway. Human expressions were nigh impossible with his feline face. But, it seemed Viktor got the message, since Yuuri felt the press of lips against the back of his head. His purr only intensified.

"I'd say get a room, but that would be morally questionable, all things considered," Chris quipped lightly. He laughed in response to Yuuri's indignant hiss. "Don't give me that, kitkat. All will be right with the world soon."

Yuuri sighed, acknowledging the hopefulness of the statement. It didn't stop him from growling, though. Chris's teasing always made him prickly. He didn't completely settle down until Viktor distracted him from Chris's antagonism with some well placed scratches behind his ears. The distraction earned Viktor a throaty purr and a very relaxed cat going limp in his arms.

The rain had only worsened by the time they made it back to the old Victorian. All three of them were drenched to the core. Yuuri's misery was palpable despite Viktor's best attempts at keeping him dry. He'd even let Yuuri bury himself under his shirt to get away from the rain. Normally, Yuuri's fur tickled Viktor's skin, but with them being thoroughly soaked, it simply felt… Weird. Not slimy, but weird enough to warrant discomfort. Yuuri remained wet and miserable and fearful of his fur matting. The moment the trio reached the dry safety of the porch, Yuuri wiggled free and leapt away from Viktor.

"I hate the rain so much." Yuuri hissed, shaking out his fur. Phichit chose that precise moment to open the door. Instead of welcoming his friends back from their venture out to Celestino's, he found himself greeted with water droplets flying from Yuuri's fur and onto his clothes. Phichit squawked, about to yell at Yuuri, but the cat simply ignored him on the way inside.

"Wh—" Phichit blinked. He turned to Chris and Viktor. "What's got his fur in a knot?"

"Aside from the rain?" Viktor asked.

"Oh." Phichit started laughing. "Did Chris bring up the equinox again?"

"Guilty as charged." Chris grinned. "C'mon, let us inside already. I'm freezing. And wet."

At that, Chris waggled his eyebrows at Phichit. When Phichit rolled his eyes, he just laughed. He laughed harder when Phichit hit him on the shoulder. Viktor watched the exchange with an air of exasperated fondness. They weren't just friends anymore. They were his family. With a smile, Viktor followed them inside the house, a bounce in his step. Phichit happily announced everyone's return when they'd all been there for several minutes. Not to mention Yuuri's trail of terror in search of a towel. Needless to say, his announcement was a little late.

"Are you going to fill us in or are we just going to have to guess?" Phichit asked, plopping down next to Seung-gil, crowding into his space. Seung-gil grumbled, but he adjusted himself to accommodate Phichit's body.

"Shouldn't we let Yuuri explain?" Seung-gil asked once his excitable husband had settled down.

"But he left." Phichit pouted.

"I'll go get him," Viktor said. He headed downstairs to Yuuri's room, where he'd been also been brought back to life. It was a sobering feeling—knowing that he had been dead. Yuuri wasn't in his immediate sight when he made it to the basement. He cocked his head to the side and put his hands on his hips. "Yuuri~! Where did you disappear to, hmm?"

"I didn't disappear." Yuuri's voice came from under a pile of fabric that was the ample bedding. "I was just trying to dry off."

" _Esulrhoux_ …" Viktor laughed. "You're just going to make the bed wet like that. And then where will you sleep?"

Silence answered him. Yuuri evidently hadn't planned that far ahead. Viktor just smiled. He bent over the bed and extracted his feline beauty from the from the excess of blankets. He almost preened when Yuuri didn't fight him. Yuuri had been relaxing more and more around him, much to his delight. Viktor carried Yuuri to the bathroom and grabbed a towel from the linen closet. Without fanfare, Viktor proceeded to dry Yuuri's fur, being as gentle as possible.

"I'm not going to break, you know." Yuuri muttered.

"I know you're not." Viktor smiled. "But some cats are really finicky about their fur. I didn't want to risk anything."

"Ugh. You're going to kill me with your consideration…" Yuuri purred. "I'm fine. The faster we get dry, the sooner we can satiate Phichit's dangerous curiosity."

"Well, if you're sure." Viktor laughed. He finished drying Yuuri off before starting on himself. A thought occurred to him, making him frown and pause. "Did I ever leave any clothes here by any chance?"

"…I don't think so, no." Yuuri blinked at him. His tail flicked about in thought. "I'm sure there's something here that'll fit you. I'd help you look around, but—"

"Thumbs?" Viktor asked, grinning.

"Thumbs." Yuuri nodded. "I'm afraid I've gotten rather fond of them. You might find something in the dresser. Or the wardrobe. Should I stay or go pacify Phichit?"

"You trust me enough to leave me to rifle through your things alone?" Viktor teased.

"Maybe." Yuuri stretched and purred. It was nice, to be dry, though he suspected the rain to drag on. He tried not to let that dampen his mood. "But if you want me to stay, hurry up. The longer we take, the more impatient Phichit gets."

"I know, I know." Viktor laughed. "I'll be quick, I promise."

Yuuri simply meowed at him and left him to search for clothes on his own.

* * *

"About damn time, you two!" Phichit whined. He leaned over the back of the couch. "Chris wouldn't tell us anything at all. He's never so tight lipped. I'm still scarred over details I didn't need to know about his murdering kelpie boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend." Chris sniffed indignantly.

"Well, yeah," Yuuri said with a snort, jumping up onto the couch. "Drowning tends to put a damper on your relationship."

"Was…" Phichit stared at Yuuri, wide eyed. "Was that a joke? About one of our deaths?"

Yuuri winced. "S-sorry. I didn't mean—"

"Yuuri~." Chris was laughing. "It's great. I love it. Ten out of ten, worst joke you've ever made. You should make them more often. Because, I've come to terms with my death. It _was_ rather comedic, wasn't it?"

"He drowned you while having sex," Yuuri deadpanned.

"Best. Way. To. Die." Chris nodded sagely.

"Anyway." Phichit interrupted while snickering. "The joking is a good thing. It means you're getting better."

"Really?" Yuuri hesitated, kneading his claws into the couch cushion, uncertain.

"Really, I swear."

Yuuri started to relax. He _had_ been feeling better lately. At least, he was until Rhys resurfaced in his life. But that would be over soon. It would be over and he could start a new chapter in his life. He couldn't—he yowled and hissed as his thoughts were interrupted and his feet pulled from the couch despite his best efforts to hold on. Phichit and Chris started laughing, and even Seung-gil had to stifle his own quite snickers. Yuuri would have cursed at them if he wasn't too busy hissing and trying to reclaim even a fraction of his dignity. He didn't relax until he was securely in Viktor's lap. And in Yuuri's favorite chair, too. Yuuri sighed. He dug his claws into Viktor's thighs in petty revenge. He purred when Viktor's wince sounded more like a whine.

" _Yuuri_ … Claws—"

"Warn me next time, Viktor."

"You two sure are something." Phichit wiped his eyes while his grin continued to split his face in half. "So anyway, now that everyone's finally here…"

"Everyone?" Yuuri blinked. "But—"

"We're here." Otabek just came through the door, a soaked and irate Yuri in tow. "Sorry we're late."

"What—why—where?" Yuuri stared at them, flabbergasted. "You're soaked! And freezing—"

"I'm fine," Yuri spat, but his ire wasn't for Yuuri. "Not cold at all."

"It's the spite," Otabek said with a fond smile. "It keeps him warm. We're fine, just cold, wet, and tired."

"But why? Where have you two been?" Yuuri couldn't frown in his body, so he just growled softly instead. "You weren't here when we left for Celestino's. I was starting to get worried."

"Yeah, whatever." Yuri shrugged, but he didn't meet the cat's gaze. "I'll… Say something next time. Beka?"

"We went hunting," Otabek said. "I lost his trail the night that… That…"

Otabek trailed off, giving a vague gesture between Yuuri himself and Viktor.

"Beka." Yuuri sighed. "None of that was your fault. You know that, right?"

"I know, but—" Otabek frowned. "I thought maybe I could hunt him back down. Drag him here to answer for what he's done to you—to all of us."

"I appreciate it." Yuuri would have smiled if he could. "Speaking of, we visited Celestino today."

"The High Magus?" Otabek asked.

"Yes." Yuuri nodded. "He gave us some interesting advice. It might work. It's all we've got."

"We'll just have to find the bastard for it to work," Chris said with a snort. "Any luck, Fido?"

"Fuck off, Chris, he's not a dog!" Yuri snapped.

"Technically, Yura, I am," Otabek said. His face was stoic as ever, but his lips twitched up in an effort to break the mask. His shoulders were loose and relaxed. The only thing that kept him from breaking his composure was the seriousness of the situation. "I didn't find him specifically, Chris. But Yura and I found a small trace of him. Out at the park."

"Near the pond fountain," Yuri finished. "Weird place for him to be."

"No, it makes sense…" Yuuri sighed. "It was—it was a similar place where I gave him one of my lives. And where he…"

"Left you to die." Yuri all but snarled. "We're going to kill him this time, right?"

"I don't know," Yuuri admitted. "Celestino said… He simply mentioned that gifts given can be taken back. That's what I'm going to try, but we have no idea what will happen."

"What." Yuri stared at Yuuri, still scowling but looking more confused than irate now. "That makes no fucking sense."

"What doesn't?"

"Gifts given can be taken back." Yuri huffed. "What is that supposed to mean? You haven't given him any gifts."

"But I did," Yuuri said. "I'm going to take back the gift that saved him. I'm going to take my life back from him."

"Oh."

"That's…" Phichit tapped his check after listening to the entire exchange. "Actually pretty genius. Why didn't we think of that?"

"The High Magus is older than all of us, _aepaeli._ Remember?"

"Right." Phichit nodded. "Older than dirt."

"He's not _that_ old." Yuuri sighed. "But yeah. We're gonna try taking my life back. If it works, it'll be both literal and figurative. Maybe I'll finally— _we'll_ finally be free."

"Okay." Phichit clapped his hands. "How?"

"I— Don't know," Yuuri admitted.

"Have you thought about when?" Seung-gil asked.

"I was thinking…" Yuuri shrugged. He looked at Chris. "Any ideas?"

"Well, all of our magics are strongest at the full moon, so… Three days?"

"Three days, then." Yuuri nodded. "We'll be ready. Yura, Beka?"

"Yeah." Yuri stuffed his hands in his pockets. "We're on it. We'll call if there's any movement."

"Or if something goes wrong," Yuuri said. "Don't do anything reckless, Yura. Please."

"Yeah, yeah." Yuri grumbled. "You worry too much, Katsuki."

"Sometimes I don't think I worry enough."

"I'll keep him out of trouble, Yuuri," Otabek said. "We'll stay safe."

"Please do." Yuuri relaxed. "Call if anything happens. And stay warm."

"Unlikely." Yuri snorted. He left again with Otabek in tow.

 

"You know, I was kind of hoping the rain would have let up by now," Chris said to no one in particular. "I feel like I've taken another dip in the swamp, and we just got here."

"And no one thought to bring an umbrella?" Yuuri growled as the ground under his paws soaked his fur and squished between his toes. "I hate the rain."

"We know." Chris rolled his eyes. "It's cold and dark. Where are Yuri and Otabek? We've been waiting forever."

"Patience…" Phichit muttered.

"You're one to talk, _aepaeli_ …" Seung-gil pulled his drenched coat tighter around his body. It didn't help keep him warm. "You're the least patient person here."

"Stop arguing." Yuuri huffed. "We'll attract unwanted attention."

" _Anuyi_ , there's no one here," Viktor said. "It's just us and the rain."

"That's not the—"

"Yuri and Otabek are back," Seung-gil said, interrupting them.

"They look grim," Chris observed.

"Otabear always looks grim," Phichit said.

"True." Chris nodded.

They waited for Otabek and Yuri to join them. Otabek was blank, as always. Yuri had a sour look on his face. It put the group on edge, given the time of night and their purpose in being out in the freezing rain.

"What happened?" Viktor asked.

"Yuri almost attacked him," Otabek said.

"Yura…" The cat in the group sighed.

"I didn't actually do anything, _jeez…_ "

"Will he come after you or do we have to go to him?" Chris asked.

"Last I checked, he was behind us." Yuri shrugged. "Are you ready to deal with him, Katsuki?"

"I think so." Yuuri nodded. "I want my life back. And I think it's finally time to put all of this behind me."

"Us." Phichit quipped.

"Behind _us_ , yes.

* * *

""He's coming," Phichit whispered.

"Where?" Yuuri paced around the soggy grass. "I don't—"

"Yuuri?" Viktor knelt down, moving to pick Yuuri up and into his arms. "What is it? what's wrong?"

"Phichit's right," Yuuri said. He slipped out of Viktor's hands before he could pick him up. "I can feel him. He's getting closer."

"You can feel…?"

"Yeah."

"Yuuri can feel anyone who shares his life if they're close enough in proximity," Seung-gil said.

"What, like radar?" Viktor tilted his head.

"Don't be silly," Yuuri said. "It's just a feeling. I can't really explain or describe it. Anyway, he's getting closer."

The group shifted. Yuuri stood out in front of them as Rhys arrived. Yuri and Otabek stood like sentinels at either side of Yuuri. Yuuri drew himself up as proud and regal as he could, given that he looked like he'd just been dragged out of the sewer. Rhys sneered.

"You finally look like what you really are, Yuuri."

Yuuri made no move and no sound. He held his head high and proud. The two beside him bristled. The fury in the air was palpable. No one moved. Rhys himself was annoyingly dry. He'd had the foresight to bring an umbrella. Yuuri hated him. He really did.

"And what would that be, Rhys?" Yuuri kept his voice steady despite his shaking and rising anxiety. What if this didn't work like they hoped? What if Celestino was wrong? The man was old, yes, but that didn't make him all-knowing.

"A filthy animal," Rhys said. He stood across from them with his hand in the pocket of his trench coat. The other hand held the umbrella that kept him infuriatingly dry. It was Yuuri's unflinching pride that kept him calm and everyone else from lunging at Rhys.

"If I'm an animal, Rhys," Yuuri began, slow and careful, the calm bordering on eerie, "then you're a monster."

"I'll have you once and for all."

"You won't." Yuuri tilted his head. "You want your humanity back? I want my life back."

"I'll be taking both," Rhys sneered. "By force, if necessary. And judging by your entourage, it looks like it just might be."

"As if we'd let you get close enough to Yuuri to hurt him." Phichit took a step forward. He stopped in his tracks when Yuuri shook his head. The smell of iron permeated the air. It seemed to come from around Rhys. Rhys made no indication that he noticed the change in air. Yuuri took a deep, steadying breath.

"You wouldn't want to let him get too close to me anyway," Rhys said. His smirk was shadowed by the night rain and the dark clouds. "Not that you'll have much choice. Your precious Feyking's life is mine."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Yuuri saw the rage in Yuri and Otabek, and felt the force of it from behind him. He would not have been surprised if Otabek lost himself and threw himself into his canine form. If Yuri had been an animal, Yuuri would not have been surprised to see teeth bared and hackles rising. Still, he cut an intimidating appearance in the icy rain. The wind picked up, biting in its chill. Yuuri could smell the lightning in the distance, not far off now. No one moved, despite the rage boiling under the surface. Yuri twitched—he itched to move but he wouldn't. Just like Otabek, he wouldn't tear Rhys apart without permission. This was Yuuri's benediction. So he stayed frozen, like Otabek, like the others behind them, waiting for Yuuri to do something. To say something.

"My life is my own, Rhys." The shadows under him expanded into inky black. The full moon shone through a break in the clouds. A gasp behind them was heard over the wind. Yuuri paid it no mind. He continued. "I'll be taking it back now. It's not yours to corrupt any longer. Your time is over. You want your humanity back? I'll give it to you. Does that sound fair?"

"No!" Rhys lost his composure first. "I'll only get my humanity back when I take your final life!"

"Ah." Yuuri understood. "Well, Rhys… That's unfortunate. Haven't you noticed? The more lives you take, the more monstrous you become."

Phichit scoffed somewhere behind him. "This is _so_ Dorian Gray."

"Dorian Gray would be offended." Yuuri rolled his eyes. The shadows under him had expanded to a void. Then, it became a mirror to the sky, with Yuuri in all his feline glory standing right in the center of the full moon's reflection. Rhys shuffled, suddenly uncomfortable. Fey magic crackled through the air.

"Rhys Bors." Yuuri stood firm on four paws. "I take back my life from you. You and your memories no longer hold any power over me. I take my life and leave you with nothing."

At Yuuri's declaration, the universe seemed to still. The frozen silence unnerved Viktor. He watched with a dry mouth as time ticked by. Even the rain seemed to stop and pay attention. Then, all at once, everything resumed. The wind picked up. It whipped through Viktor's hair; nearly froze the rain on his skin. He didn't move. The empty black pool under Yuuri's paws shot out under Rhys's feet before snapping back into the exceptionally smaller shadow of Yuuri's feline body. The dagger in Rhys's hand fell to the ground. Rhys grasped at his chest. His muscled spasmed. The rain continued to beat down heavily on them. Yuuri appeared to remain unfazed by weather or Rhys's reactions.

"Wh—what have you—" Rhys grunted out, hand gripping his chest. The soggy fabric of his clothing squished between his fingers. "What's happening to me?"

"My life is magic," Yuuri said. The shrunken shadow enveloped Yuuri's body. When it slipped away, Yuuri stood, tall and human. He took a moment to feel out his limbs. It felt good to have this form again. "You're human. A human who has lived five hundred years too long. You said you wanted your humanity back. Is this what you hoped for?"

"I—no!" Rhys grappled at his own body as his skin withered. "I wanted to _live_! To be human! You took my life from me!"

"You were only alive this long because of me," Yuuri hissed. "I would have given you everything. And you took it, threw it in my face, and killed my _family_. So this is me. Taking my life back from you. I'm moving on. Your memory won't haunt me anymore. Our history is just that—history. I—no, _we_ are finally free from you."

With Yuuri's declaration, Rhys's body disintegrated. No one moved. No one dared to breathe. The rain didn't stop. Thunder rumbled and lightning crackled. The storm continued on, uncaring of the cathartic release of several lifetimes' worth of pent up trauma. Yuuri felt lighter than he ever had. He turned to face everyone.

"I—"

A body crashed into Yuuri, full force. He found himself getting well acquainted with the gooey mud. Warm lips pressed against his as his eyes widened, then fluttered closed. He wrapped his arms around the weight above him. Once they separated, Yuuri smiled, soft and exhausted.

"Hi there," he said.

"God, you're beautiful, Yuuri." Viktor breathed, reverent. "My beautiful, beautiful Yuuri. _Esulrhoux_."

"You've been waiting for that, haven't you?" Yuuri asked, laughing softly.

"You two are so fucking disgusting," Yuri snapped at them. Venom dripped from his voice, but the ire never quite reached his face. "Can we fucking go home now?"

Raucous laughter erupted, drowning out the sudden clap of thunder.

* * *

A week later, several people in a quaint little cottage at the end of the street suffered from a nasty cold.


	6. desinere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **desinere** | _to come to an end_

Yuuri ran his fingers through Viktor's hair. It had grown long down his back in the two years it's been since Rhys's death. Yuuri couldn't stop touching. Not that Viktor minded. Rather, he preened under the affection, melting into a pliant puddle as Yuuri worked his fingers through long locks, untangling them here and there.

"Mm… Yuuri?" Viktor cracked his eyes open and peered up at Yuuri.

"Yes, _tsaeli_?"

"This is going to sound weird—"

" _Vitya_." Yuuri poked him gently in the nose. "You _are_ weird."

"Rude." Viktor huffed. "Anyway… Am I human?"

"Technically." Yuuri glanced down at him, arching an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Hm…" Viktor scrunched his nose in thought. "Just thinking… If I'm still human, will I die eventually?"

" _Tsaeli_?" Yuuri frowned. "Where is this coming from?"

"I just—" Viktor furrowed his brow. "I don't want to eventually leave you, that's all."

Yuuri snorted. He nudged Viktor up and halfway into his lap. " _Aepaeli_ , everything dies eventually. But if it makes you feel better, then no. I gave you my life. The only way you're leaving me is if someone killed you. Again."

"Yeah, no, that wasn't pleasant." Viktor huffed.

"Or if I die—if I die, then… Everyone goes with me." Yuuri sighed. "Why are we talking about this on our wedding day?"

"Don't worry, _esulrhoux_." Viktor smiled, sitting up all the way and twisting to kiss his husband-to-be. "Just wanted to make sure we'll be stuck together forever."

"And I thought I was the insecure one." Yuuri clicked his tongue, but met Viktor halfway, pressing their lips together. "Always, _anuyi_. From this life to the next. And the one after that."

"And the one after _that_." Viktor grinned. "Soulmates?"

"Perhaps." Yuuri shrugged. "I hope so. Truthfully, I've… Envied Phichit and Seung-gil for years. I wanted what they had for the last half a century. But—I was always terrified. Closed off. Everyone always wanted _something_ , and after Rhys…"

" _Esulrhoux…_ " Viktor hummed. He hushed Yuuri with another kiss. "It's okay."

"I'm glad I waited,” though, Yuuri muttered against Viktor's lips. "Can't imagine it being anyone else."

"… _Yuuri_." Viktor's voice wavered, watery and choked up.

"You're not the only one allowed to be romantic, _aepaeli_."

"Marry me right now," Viktor whined. "It's our wedding day."

"Can't yet, Vitya." Yuuri laughed quietly. "Beka and Chris aren't back yet."

"Where did they go?"

"You're whiny today." Yuuri laughed again. "They're on the very, _very_ important mission of retrieving some of our more traditional… Things. You said you wanted a Fey wedding didn't you?"

"I—yes." Viktor pouted.

"Then we wait." Yuuri kissed Viktor's pout away, sliding his fingers through Viktor's hair again, working his fingertips over Viktor's scalp. "It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Mm'at least we don't have to be sequestered off into separate rooms, unable to see each other until God knows when." Viktor huffed, then laughing as Yuuri's claws ghosted over the nape of his neck.

"That human custom is strange to me." Yuuri hummed. "Phichit and Seung-gil didn't do it that way, either. But—that was probably because of the time… Still. Doesn't make any sense. Weddings are already stressful enough as it is."

"You're stressed?"

"More nervous, I think." Yuuri nodded. "I've overseen plenty of marriages, given my… _Position_. But I've never… I've never had one of my own. So—very nervous. And you wanted a Fey ceremony, too, so I wanted your official welcome to my world be perfect."

" _Esulrhoux_ …" Viktor laughed. "Anything is perfect as long as it's with you."

"Comforting." Yuuri laughed with him. "But, truthfully, I'd… I'd really like to—"

"Is Yuuri planning on rebuilding the Court without me begging?" Phichit popped up from behind their comfortable bench under the pergola's shade. "This must be recorded in Fey history! Yuuri not shying away from his title for once! _Esultrir_!"

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "Eavesdropping is terrible manners, Phichit."

"It wasn't on purpose." Phichit puffed his cheeks and put his hands on his hips. "I came over to tell you two lovebirds that Chris and Otabear are almost back. Apparently some pesky animals startled heckling them. Most likely after the _you-know-what_."

Yuuri sighed. "It's always that one little thing… There's a reason I sent Beka with him. Do you know what shape Chris chose?"

"He looks like a damn kelpie, Yuuri. I mean, sure the cart looked pretty heavy but…" Phichit groaned.

"Let me guess—the one that drowned him?" Yuuri sighed again, heavy and exasperated. "Tell him I'm not fishing him out of another swamp if he keeps gallivanting around with people and things that want to kill him."

"Consider the message relayed." Phichit laughed. He disappeared, presumably to go check back in with Chris.

"Were they attacked?" Viktor asked, eyes wide. "Are they okay?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that." Yuuri shook his head. "A lot of our traditional things tend to attract the small and the hungry. Unless Chris stopped to flirt. I swear if he's bringing another kelpie home, I'll kill him myself."

Viktor laughed, loud and free. He settled comfortably into Yuuri's side. It only lasted a minute before,

"Or Chris could have gone all out and brought my favorite. That one, uh… Might attract bears."

" _Bears_?" Viktor squeaked, up and alert. "There shouldn't be any bears this close to town!"

"It's okay, _aepaeli_." Yuuri laughed softly. "I said _attract_ , not _attack_. Beka and Chris are the most diplomatic of my—well, I guess _our_ people, now—though they don't particularly look it. The heckling Phichit mentioned was probably just some insistent begging. Or flirting with Chris. Either way, I expect we'll have some extra guests today."

"Oh." Viktor furrowed his brows. "As long as they're not hurt."

"They're fine, I promise." Yuuri kissed Viktor's hair, humming. "I would have felt it, otherwise."

"So… You feel all eight of us?"

"Mostly if there's trouble." Yuuri pressed another kiss to Viktor's temple. "Except for you. I feel you no matter what."

Viktor's cheeks warmed at Yuuri's words. He didn't know how to respond. No words seemed like the right—the best—ones. Yuuri's hands left Viktor's hair and arms curled around his torso. Yuuri pulled back enough so that he could make eye contact, pressing their foreheads together. He smiled. It was the most breathtaking smile Viktor had ever seen. And—and he'd get to see it every day for the rest of his life. He did he get _so lucky_?

"Hmm… _aepaeli_ …" Yuuri hummed softly, looking at Viktor through his lashes. "You're thinking too hard about something…"

"Not really." Viktor smiled back at him. He ran a hand through Yuuri's hair, fingertips brushing over the shadows of Yuuri's feline ears. Yuuri purred. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to get to see your beautiful face every day for the rest of our lives."

Yuuri's cheeks grew warm. He huffed and tucked his head under Viktor's chin so they wouldn't be staring at each other anymore. Still, his purring only grew louder and happier at the declaration.

* * *

"We're back!" Chris called, shifting into his human form, shedding the horse-like skin he'd been using to pull the cart full of Yuuri's people's traditions. "And we come bearing gifts! Don't we, Otabek?"

Otabek inclined his head, ever the taciturn guardian. Chris slapped him on the back and ruffled his hair, grinning. He added, "hey, it's a party, Otabek. Live a little."

"I am." Otabek's face was stoic as ever, but his lips did quirk upward at the sight of Viktor and Yuuri being so comfortable. He glanced around, searching for a scrawny half ban sidhe. "Where's Yura?"

"He stormed off because we were being, and I quote, ' _gross_.'" Viktor laughed, wrapping his arms tight around Yuuri. "What did he expect, though? I'm getting _married_."

" _We_." Yuuri muttered, snickering into Viktor's neck.

"Of course, of course." Viktor grinned. " _We're_ getting married."

"Better." Yuuri hummed softly. He lifted his head to peek out at Chris and Otabek. "Do you have everything?"

"And more." Beka rolled his eyes, tilting his head toward Chris. "He found friends."

"Christophe…" Yuuri frowned. "I believe Phichit sent you a message?"

"You won't have to pull me out of another swamp, love," Chris said, waving his hand in a noncommittal gesture. "Not interested in that right now. But we did end up with an entourage who found out that the Feyking is taking a spouse today. From _someone_."

"My bad." Phichit grinned, sheepish, as he stepped out from behind Chris. "I may have ranted a little about how flirting with strangers on his king's wedding, before we even started said wedding, was bad manners."

"You're _loud_ ," Otabek commented idly.

"I am not!" Phichit crossed his arms over his chest. And then,

"You are, _aepaeli_." Seung-gil stepped out of the house and onto the back patio. "Very loud."

Phichit's cheeks flamed. "That's— No! That's _different_ , Seung-gil, and you _know that_."

Seung-gil just shrugged with an amused smirk.

"Where have you been, Seung-gil?" Yuuri peered over Viktor's shoulder.

"Checking on the last invite."

"And?" Yuuri blinked slowly.

"He'll probably be late." Seung-gil shrugged.

"Fashionably, of course." Phichit snickered. "His hair takes the most time. Longer than Viktor's here, in terms of grooming."

"Lies." Viktor huffed. "No one takes longer than me."

"Ah…" Yuuri giggled. "Vitya. _Anuyi_. There is _one_ person."

"… _No._ " Viktor gasped.

"Yes." Yuuri's giggling turned into laughter. "Sorry, my love. He's had over a thousand years to perfect being fashionably late."

"Okay, enough, enough." Phichit waved his hands about. "Chris and Otabear are back with everything. Our woodland-facing backyard is beautiful. The husbands-to-be need to get up. And shoo. Go. Get dressed! We'll take care of everything else! …Chris, you _did_ get the clothes, didn't you?"

"What do you take me for?" Chris scoffed. "Of course I did."

"Okay, good, good." Phichit nodded before burrowing into the cart. He emerged a moment later with two garment bags, triumphant. "Here they are!"

Yuuri rolled his eyes and extracted himself from Viktor and retrieved the bags. He shot Phichit a look before he took Viktor inside, leaving everyone else behind to set up the yard. Viktor, of course, happily followed his Yuuri's lead.

* * *

Yuri was inside, hiding from the nonsense in the backyard. He grumbled when Yuuri walked in, toting a pair of bags in one hand and pulling on Viktor with the other. Rolling his eyes, he sat up on the couch, turning around and leaning over the back of it. "Aren't you two supposed to be outside, y'know, celebrating?"

"Mmn, Yura." Yuuri laughed softly. "Chris just got back, and he brought the clothes."

For emphasis, he held up the garment bags in his hand, giving them a little shake. Yuri narrowed his eyes at the bags, glancing from them to Yuuri's face, and back. "Are those—"

"Fey-made, yes." Yuuri nodded. "Want to help me? Viktor's are pretty straightforward, so he won't need the help."

"Ugh, _fine_." Yuri grumbled, folding his arms over his chest as if he were being put upon. "I suppose I can help you. Since you're useless anyway. Don't know how _you_ managed to hold on to the Feyking title…"

"Thank you, Yura," Yuuri said with a knowing smile. He turned to Viktor, handing him his garment bag. "These are yours, they're simple enough that it should be just like getting dressed on a normal day. I'll be right back."

"Can't wait!" Viktor chirped, waving lightly as Yuuri headed to another room with Yuri.

"Are you…" Yuri clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"The only thing I've ever been more sure of in my life was taking you in, kiddo," Yuuri said, ruffling Yuri's hair. He leaned down and kissed the top of Yuri's head. "This is a close second."

"Ugh." Yuri shuddered. But otherwise, he didn't argue. His cheeks tinted the lightest pink, too. He pulled Yuuri's clothes out of the bag and started helping Yuuri into each piece. The wide swath of sheer fabric that served as a shawl and glittering accent was a pain in the ass. It kept slipping off of Yuuri's arms or slipping from Yuri's hands. Yuri swore. "Why the fuck did you go with this fabric? It's impossible."

"I didn't," Yuuri said, laughing. "It was a gift."

"It feels like heather pixie to me," Yuri grumbled. "You need fucking claws for this, why don't you do it? I hate heather pixies."

"You hate everyone, Yura." Yuuri laughed again. "Here, I can hold it in place with my claws but you'll have to find a way to pin it. I obviously can't dance if I'm worrying about this falling off all the time."

"…I don't hate _everyone_ …" Yuri muttered under his breath, but Yuuri still heard him. "I don't—hate _you_. Or Beka. Seung-gil is… Tolerable. The other two can go get fucked, though. And Viktor's _always_ making an ass of himself."

"You're a sweet kid, you know that?" Yuuri snickered, but jumped with a hiss when Yuri pricked him with a pin. "Easy with those!"

"You distracted me." Yuri jutted out his chin with a petulant look. The pins he held in his teeth only made the image funny. Yuuri very wisely did not comment. Yuri huffed as he fastened the last pin in place, stepping back to view the handiwork. "That'll hold. Is it loose enough?"

Yuuri hummed, stepping away and twirling in a test. The fabric held perfectly in place while still flowing. He smiled at Yuri.

"It's perfect." Yuuri cupped Yuri's cheeks and patted them with a soft grin. "Thank you."

"Ugh. Disgusting." But Yuri didn't pull away. He only half-heartedly batted at Yuuri's hands. "I still hate the heather pixies and their impossible fabrics."

"Of course." Yuuri smiled, patting Yuri's cheeks again.

"I'm going to punch you in the face if you don't stop touching mine," Yuri snarled, cheeks excessively pink, as he shoved Yuuri's hands away, swatting at him.

"I love you, too, kiddo." Yuuri laughed and ruffled Yuri's hair. "I'm going to get Viktor and head back out—Phichit should have corralled everyone into working quickly. You're coming, right?"

" _Ugh_. If I have to."

* * *

Yuuri curled his bare toes in the grass, humming softly. He rocked on his heels. The only thing keeping him from fidgeting his hands into ribbon cuts was Viktor's fingers laced with his. Viktor, next to him, who radiate a nervous energy that rivaled Yuuri's, but with remarkably less fidgeting. Phichit was still buzzing about the backyard, partnering with Chris to string up magic lights to the pergola that connected to the patio via archway. Said pergola was covered with honeysuckle climbing the support beams with wisteria hanging from wide expanse of the top. A sunken stone fire pit blazed with life, covered only by a metal mesh dome. On the far end of the pergola, Otabek and Seung-gil had set up a solid table covered with Fey delicacies and a variety of drinks—all of Fey origin.

"Nervous?" Viktor whispered into Yuuri's ear, pressing a kiss to the shell.

"Of course I am," Yuuri hissed back. "Aren't you?"

"Truthfully, my heart is beating so fast it's like a hummingbird on steroids," Viktor said, shrugging.

" _Vitya_ ," Yuuri said, wheezing out a breath that cut short into a boisterous laugh.

"So—remind me again how this works?" Viktor tilted his head.

"Just follow my lead, okay?" Yuuri smiled up at Viktor, blessing him with a playful wink.

"Hey, you two!" Phichit called after stringing up the last set of lights. He grinned at them. "Are you two ready or what?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Yuuri said.

"I've been waiting for this day since we met," Viktor stated with startling sincerity.

Yuuri cut him a look and arched an eyebrow, but Phichit broke into snickers before he could respond to that declaration. Viktor just shrugged with a sheepish smile.

"Excellent." Phichit clapped his hands together. "Since Yuuri is the one getting married, he can't exactly oversee his own wedding, soooo~ Ciao Ciao is finally here."

"Oh." Yuuri tilted his head. "I expected he'd be later…"

"We all did." Phichit shrugged. "But it's not every day your adopted son gets married, is it? Oh! There he is!"

Yuuri and Viktor followed Phichit's pointed finger toward the table. There, indeed, stood Celestino, having seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Typical Celestino. Yuuri watched him for several moments, noting how he had a glimmering crystal goblet and was filling it with what looked like the rich and decadent honey wine that was used only for very special occasions. He looked up when Yuuri approached him, Viktor in tow.

"Celestino." Yuuri nodded in greeting. He kept his arm linked with Viktor's sticking close to his side.

"Uhm." Viktor rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with Celestino—the High Magus _was_ intimidating, after all. The was the man who essentially raised Yuuri and taught Yuuri everything he knows. "Sir."

Yuuri turned his head and snorted softly into Viktor's shoulder. Celestino arched his eyebrows at Viktor before shrugging. Yuuri lifted his head and rested his chin on Viktor's shoulder, looking up at Celestino.

"Is it ready yet?" Yuuri asked, wiggling his toes in the grass, radiating nervous impatience.

"Almost." Celestino nodded, turning back to the goblets. "But you haven't given me locks of hair or—"

"Oh." Yuuri blinked before humming. "Forgot about those."

"What?" Viktor blinked at Yuuri.

"Traditionally, a pair would give locks of hair to braid together—symbolizing the two people becoming essentially one," Yuuri said. "And there's also the matter of the blood."

" _Blood_?" Viktor hissed.

"Relax. It's the same thing as the hair, but you can't put hair in the goblet and drink it." Yuuri shrugged. "Well—you _can,_ but I imagine it would be unpleasant. So we prick our fingers and flick a few drops into the honey wine. We both drink from that goblet. The braided hair is symbolic. The blood is the actual binding. Not that _we_ need it, given that you literally have one of my lives, but… It _is_ tradition."

"Oh." Viktor nodded, understanding. He tilted his head toward Yuuri. "You really went all out."

"Not really." Yuuri smiled a bit. "We don't have an entire court of Fey. Hundreds of years ago, half the forest would come together for something like this. But I think I prefer it this way. It's… More intimate."

"Well, let's get started then, kid." Celestino ruffled Yuuri's hair. "The braids can come later. We don't have all night."

"Yes we do!" Phichit whined. "It's a _party_."

"And the fireflies aren't going to stay all night, are they?" Chris laughed, thumping Phichit on the back. "They have places to go, too."

Yuuri rolled his eyes with a smile and turned completely to Viktor. He looked up at his husband-to-be from under his lashes. Cheeks flushed pink, but his eyes, the very color of living tigers-eye, sparkled with warmth under the amber glow of Phichit's and Chris's magic strings of light. Viktor's breath caught in his throat. He wondered if it would be like that all night.

"Vitya, _aeneari_ …" Yuuri paused, biting his lip. "Do you want me to do it, or Celestino?"

"Pardon?" Viktor blinked.

"Fingers." Yuuri wiggled his own fingers at Viktor. "Claws or knife?"

"Oh—" Viktor smiled. "Yuuri, darling, your claws _hurt_."

"I'll be gentle." Yuuri's lips twitched.

"Do we really have to cut ourselves open?" Viktor fidgeted. "Why not just exchange rings?"

"You wanted traditional, Vitya," Yuuri said, laughing. "And you'll forgive me if I'm still a little wary of jewelry."

Celestino rolled his eyes. The two would be back and forth with that all night if someone didn't step in. "I can't believe you're going to argue about _this_ of all things."

"Fuckin' dumbasses," Yuri grumbled as he approached the group under the pergola. He thrust a knife into Yuuri's hands. He refused to look at either of them. "It was in your things. It's for ceremonies, right?"

"Yura…" Yuuri handled the knife with delicate care. "This was…"

"Don't make it _weird_ or anything." Yuri scoffed, turning away. "It's yours now, isn't it?"

"Thank you, Yura…" Yuuri smiled. His face went soft and fond. His eyes misted over as he brushed his fingers over the metal and glass with reverence. "Devi's ceremonial blade. Gold tiger. The stripes are made of obsidian glass… The blade is, too. Where did you find it?"

"The velvet box you keep your lock box in," Yuri said with a noncommittal shrug. "Are you doing this or what?"

"This is better than my claws could ever be. Thank you." Yuuri laughed and wiped his eyes with the end of the fabric Yuri pinned in place. Then, he turned to the goblet Celestino had filled with the wine. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he took the blade to his hand, cutting his palm open enough to bleed but not enough to cause severe injury. He scrunched his face, watching his blood drip into the wine. He heard Viktor make a noise of protest next to him, but he just smiled. Yuuri shook his head and looked up at Viktor. "This is my commitment."

"You just cut your hand open!" Viktor squeaked.

"It's already healing, look." Yuuri smiled, showing him his palm, where the cut in his hand was slowly closing itself up. He then held the blade out for Viktor. "You don't have to make such a big cut, if it bothers you."

" _Esulrhoux_ , you can't expect me _not_ to." Viktor winked, taking the knife and cutting his own palm open the same way Yuuri had. "I'm making the same commitment you are."

However, unlike Yuuri, Viktor didn't have fancy healing powers. He winced, flexing his hand, letting the very last of the blood drop into the goblet. Yuuri took his hand. Like he did two years ago at a crosswalk, he brushed his fingers over the cut and held his palm against it. Viktor's skin tingled and he wiggled his fingers as the skin healed. Yuuri moved his hand away and kissed Viktor's palm.

"Alright, alright," Celestino cut in. "Most of the fanfare is over. Just. Take the goblet. I'm too old for this. You'll learn, Viktor, that the more commonly told stories don't apply to our court. We don't enjoy pomp and circumstance when it comes to our ceremonies."

"Unless you're Chris." Yuuri giggled. He shook his head. "But Celestino's right. The last thing."

"What about the hair?" Viktor blinked.

"We can do that later, together and in private. I don't want to mess with your hair right now." Yuuri hummed. He twirled a finger over the edge of the goblet, swirling the liquid. The red blood and the golden hue of the honey wine mixed together into a pleasing metallic color. With that bit of magic done, Yuuri smiled and held up the goblet to Viktor's lips. "I hold it to you, and you drink. Then you do the same for me while I drink."

Viktor hummed, accepting the drink graciously, then blinking in surprise when he couldn't taste any blood at all. He eased the goblet away, bewildered. Yuuri laughed before he could stop himself. The moment was beautiful, really. The grass was cool under his feet and the air itself was warm—warmer still under the glowing shade of the pergola and the fire pit crackling nearby. Warmer _still_ in his heart and under his skin. He couldn't recall being happier. Especially not when Viktor curled his fingers around the stem of the goblet, took it from Yuuri's hand, and offered him the drink in return. Yuuri smiled, resting a hand on Viktor's arm as he accepted the drink. Between the two of them, the goblet was drained entirely. Yuuri pushed forward, pressing his lips against Viktor's, who dropped the goblet in favor of wrapping his arms around Yuuri's torso. Thankfully, Celestino caught the crystal glass before it hit the ground and shattered. He rolled his eyes with the affection of an exasperated parent.

"My job here is done. Don't stay up all night, kids." Celestino ruffled Yuuri's hair—and Viktor's, too—before walking away, leaving them, and the rest of their crew, alone to dance the night away.

* * *

"That's it?" Viktor asked as Yuuri took his hand and pulled him away from the table spread.

"No pomp and circumstance for us." Yuuri grinned up at him. "Just a small, meaningful ceremony and a blood commitment. That's enough, isn't it?"

"More than enough." Viktor laced their fingers together, standing opposite Yuuri. He stole a kiss. "So what now, _esulrhoux_?"

"What else, _anuyi_?" Yuuri laughed, tugging at Viktor's hand. "We dance, of course. Why else would I be wearing fabric made by heather pixies? Did you know Yura hates them? Their fabric is impossible to get a proper grip on, but the movement it makes is divine."

"It looks stunning on you," Viktor said. "Now… How do you dance, Yuuri?"

"Naturally, of course." Yuuri hummed. He stepped back, pulling Viktor along with him. Viktor may not have known the steps, but Yuuri was nothing if not a skilled leader, able to perfectly direct exactly where he went and where Viktor followed him.

With the fire blazing as they danced around it, the glow of the stringed lights, and the delightful scent of honeysuckle as the dusk fell over them, it was magic. Pure and simple, beautiful magic. Soon after they started dancing, Phichit pulled Seung-gil into the circle around the fire. The four of them danced, light on their bare feet and light in their hearts. Chris joined soon after, and it wasn't long until everyone was switching dance partners. As they passed by the table spread, Yuuri reached out and pulled Yuri into the circle with them, spinning him out and then back in before handing him off to Viktor.

Yuri protested, loudly but without his usual furious edge, as he found himself passing one circle around the fire with a different partner each time, until Otabek came to his rescue. Yuuri watched the two of them slip off and away from the chaos before Chris lifted him off his feet. He yelped in startled laughter, swatting at Chris's shoulder. Chris set him back on his feet, only to spin him in, then out into Viktor's waiting arms. Phichit and Seung-gil had already left the circle around the fire, but they stayed nearby, settled comfortably against each other in a chair that was only meant for one. Yuuri waved at them as they made another pass around the fire. He and Viktor laughed as Chris stepped out, wiping sweat from his brow.

"You two are _insane_ ," he said with a breathy wheeze, dropping into a chair near Seung-gil and Phichit.

They danced well into the night, until they collapsed onto the bench they'd started the day on, laughing into each other as they curled together. Yuuri had finally tired out, his laughter becoming soft and his kisses becoming lazy. Viktor indulged him as anyone so smitten in love would. The wide strip of fabric that Yuri helped pin to his clothes had long been lost during the dance. It had fluttered into the fire, bursting the flames into a stunning, celestial color.

"I love you," Yuuri whispered against Viktor's neck, having curled into his new husband. His body ached pleasantly from the endless dancing, and he had no desire to move at all for the rest of the night. " _Esulrhoux_."

Viktor's breath hitched. Yuuri had never called him that—not once in the two years they'd been properly courting. He brushed his nose against Yuuri's hair. "I love you, too."

"Mmn." Yuuri mumbled something, but Viktor didn't hear it. Yuuri wound his fingers through Viktor's hair, curling gently before letting go, and repeating the process. He lifted his head just enough to speak again. "Can we tie that braid now?"

Viktor nodded and pulled his hair loose from it's movement-tousled style, giving Yuuri more access to the long locks. Yuuri purred, sliding his fingers through silver silk, carefully running through some knots. With even greater care, Yuuri engaged his claws and took a lock from under, a small sample that would never be seen as missing. He then repeated the process with his own hair—longer than it had been, but not enough to style like Viktor's, not even to pull into a stub of a ponytail. But it was enough for this. With a tired, but very happy sigh, Yuuri worked on twisting silver into black. When he finished, he looked up at Viktor with an open smile, offering the woven locks of hair to Viktor.

"Yuuri, darling, what do I do with it?" Viktor asked, his voice hushed in reverence.

"We keep it, of course." Yuuri blinked slowly, as if the answer was obvious. "We can put it in the velvet box with Devi's ceremonial blade and the lock box that holds my cards. It stays in our room, after all."

"Hmm…" Viktor hummed, tapping his chin in thought. "That makes perfect sense."

"Alright, you two, that's enough," Chris said, breaking up their whispering. He had put the fire out, leaving them in the dark of the night with only the stringed lights and their dimming amber glow. He nudged at his friends. "It's late, and it's getting chilly. Off to bed with both of you."

Yuuri nodded, reluctantly pushing himself off the bed with a wide yawn. Viktor followed him, and they all but carried each other into the house, disappearing into what was Yuuri's bedroom, now their shared one. Chris watched them go with a fond smile and a shake of his head. He turned to Phichit and Seung-gil. "That goes for you two as well, you know."

One by one—or by two, in the case of Yuuri and Viktor—they all shuffled inside. The stringed lights that Phichit and Chris had put up ran out of magic and vanished. The table seemed to clear on its own, picked clean slowly and steadily from unseen and unnoticed guests—animals and lesser Fey who had gathered nearby but not too close in order to witness the wedding of their returned Feyking.

The back door clicked closed behind Chris as he followed the other four inside. Yuuri and Viktor had disappeared into their room, Phichit and Seung-gil were slowly picking their way upstairs, feet tired and hesitating. Yuri and Otabek had fallen asleep on the couch in the main lounge. Chris shook his head with a small smile. Being surrounded by so much love was truly a blessing. As he himself went off to his own room, he shut off all the lights on the way.

 

Tomorrow would be a new day for the Feyking and his returning Court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE FINALLY MADE IT TO THE VERY END.
> 
> The wonderful art that went with this fic are the works of [@coraxenca](https://coraxenca.tumblr.com/)  
> (chapter 2) and [@joelsweet](https://joelsweet.tumblr.com/) (epilogue)


	7. definire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glossary of all the Feytongue words used in this monster of a fic! conlang generators are a headache. And the IPA is like five migraines in one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **definire** | _to define_

** _The Endearments_ **

 

**taelea** /taɪ.leɪ.jə/ - _affectionate term for close/dear friends but not lovers_

**aeneari** /aɪ.njɪər.’iː/ - _my heart_

**tsaeli** /saɪ.’liː/ - _my treasure_

**aepaeli** /aɪ.paɪ.’liː/ - _sweetheart_

**anuyi** /’ɑː.njuː.iː/- _darling_

**ylae** /’iːl.aɪ/ - _dear_

**esulrhoux** /ɛ.zʊl.’roʊʃ/ - _serious term for a lover who you plan to spend the rest of your life with._

* * *

**_The Expletives_ **

 

**inaek** /iː.’naɪk/ - _fuck/fuck you/fuck off_

**trir** /trɪər/ - _shit_

**oitreir** /ɔɪ.’trɛər/ - _bullshit_

**esultrir** /’ɛz.ʊl.trɪər/ - _holy shit_

**exeqel** /’ɛʃ.ɛk.ɛl/ - _asshole_

* * *

**_Miscellany_ **

 

**uruit** /ʌr.’uː.iːt/ - _form-locked; the state of being stuck in one form, only applicable to Fey that have more than one form. (Yuuri, Otabek, Chris)_

**fhouxelsur** /foʊ.’ʃɛl.zʊr/ - _healer_


End file.
